Poem of the Day

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What is Red?

 

I strolled in the woods,

Wearing a red hood.

Looking cool in the neighbourhood.

 

 

I knock, knocked at Granny’s door.

I heard a terrible snore.

Just like a dinosaur roar.

 

Poor granny lay dead still.

Given a sleeping pill.

I’m no dill.

 

 

My eyes could see

You were dressed to trick me.

I pretended all was as it should be.

 

 

In the big four-poster bed you lay,

Hoping I would play.

But this was my day to make you pay.

 

 

All was not what it seemed.

Your sharp teeth gleamed.

Showing you for who you are was my dream.

 

 

A mean cold stare,

Laid you bare.

Come closer you dared.

 

I had to be brave

To save poor granny from the grave.

Coming your way was a shock wave.

 

 

I may be sweet and dressed in red

But you should be filled with dread.

That isn’t Granny in the sickbed.

 

 

I asked the secret code word of you

You looked blue

You had no clue.

 

 

Three letters please

Don’t be a tease.

I can see you freeze

 

 

Tell me now

Stop wrinkling your brow

On your nose ‘kapow!’

 

The code word is red.

Your face is red.

You run with dread.

 

Sharing is caring

Your red face is laid bare

For now there is no one you can scare.

 

Karen Hendriks

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poetry Prompt #19

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Get set to create! This week’s challenge is to write an acrostic poem for kids using the word ‘river’. You can use the letters as initials at the start of each line, or be even more adventurous and include them in the middle of lines or as the final letter of a line. I’m really interested to see what you do with this one. Send your contributions to me at teenawriter@gmail.com as a Word document attachment. Please make sure your name is on your poem.

Happy writing!

Teena

Poetry Prompt #18

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Welcome to the workaday week. Mondays come round quickly don’t they? I hope you’re in creative mood because I’m really interested to see what you come up with in response to this week’s poetry prompt. There are so many possibilities.

Thanks to everyone who has so enthusiastically embraced these weekly prompts. Your contributions to this site are much appreciated, so please keep them coming. Remember, if you’ve missed a prompt you can catch up later. And if you have other poems for children, feel free to submit them. They can be previously published as long as you retain the rights. Send submissions via email to teenawriter@gmail.com as a Word or Text document attachment and add a line or two about your writing process. Please also include your name on your poem attachment. It makes things a little easier for me if I don’t have to track back to emails.

Happy writing!

Teena

Poem of the Day

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Eggshell Animals

 

Purple-coloured jellybeans

with tiny arms and legs

will prod and poke a hole in

their marble-sized white egg.

 

Once hatched, they’ll grow-up hairy

and have a leathery beak.

So are they some new kind of bird

whose wings became antique?

 

No, no.  It’s not a birdy thing.

Then could it be lizard?

No.  Fur won’t grow on reptiles …

unless tricked by a wizard!

 

At first they’re bald as pumpkins

and lap their mother’s milk.

But four months-old, a platypus

has fur like soft thick silk.

Celia Berrell

inspired by:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K5Y2h5zjpWU

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #9

Poetry Prompt #4

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poetry-prompt-4

Welcome to our Monday poetry prompt for this week. With the school holidays almost at an end I’ve based this week’s writing inspiration around the return to the classroom. Let’s see what you come up with – funny, quirky, sad or serious, rhyming or non-rhyming, the choice is yours. It’s always exciting to receive your submissions. Don’t forget, if you’ve missed a prompt you can always catch up.

Please email your poems to me at teenawriter@gmail.com as a Word or Text file attachment and add a line or two about your writing process. NOTE THE NEW EMAIL ADDRESS. 

Happy writing!

Teena

Poem of the Day

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We Wish You a Merry Birthday

 

My name is Noelle and I’m sorry to say

that I was born on Christmas Day,

after the presents but before the singing

(nonsense about sleigh bells ringing).

My father claimed he’d had a hunch

that I’d be born right after lunch

and so it was: Mum gave a shout!

Pudding went in, I popped out.

I wish, I wish, I really do

she’d held on for a week or two.

Each year I share my special day

with that festering, festive holiday.

Instead of balloons I get baubles.

My head aches as my family warbles

Christmas carols all day long—

I never get a birthday song

and though each year I get a cake

it’s always fruit, for goodness sake.

I always thought it couldn’t be worse

than a birthday with a tinsel curse

till my sister made my birthday cool—

she was born an April fool.

Jessica Nelson

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #49
    poetry-prompt-48Jessica said: I was guilty of having a baby on Christmas Day last year, and I’ve been filled in on the potential downsides of a birthday overshadowed by Christmas. I hope she always finds her birthday special, and I’ll be sure to sing her Happy Birthday every year.