Poetry Prompt #4

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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!


Poem of the Day


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.


Poem of the Day


I’d rather be a Birtle than a Turd!


With four furry feathered flippers and a sharp and pointy beak

I’m a mixture of a turtle and a bird

I’ve a shell so sleek and shiny and some talons on my feet

But I’d rather be a Birtle than a Turd!


With some prickly tickly whiskers and a web to call my own

I’m a mixture of a spider and a shrew

I’ve a soft and furry tummy and eight legs without a bone

But I’d rather be a Shrider than a Spew!


With the body of a rodent and a long and slimy tail

I’m a mixture of a Gerbil and a worm

I’ve a squirmy wormy belly and my ears are very pale

But I’d rather be a Worbil than a Germ!


With a really bendy body and a home beside the shore

I’m a mixture of a starfish and a mink

I’ve a coat so soft and glossy and five legs that I adore

But I’d rather be a Marfish than a Stink!


With two long and fine antenna and a wavy wagging tail

I’m a mixture of a Beetle and a Mutt

I’ve a mouth of sloppy slobber and six legs that never fail

But I’d rather be a Meetle than a Butt!


With a round and spikey body and a long and bristly beard

I’m a mixture of a blowfish and a goat

I have skin like slimy rubber and a temper to be feared

But I’d rather be a glowfish than a bloat!


With two sharp and pointy pincers and some gorgeous golden down

I’m a mixture of a Yabbie and a duck

I have eyeballs on my feelers and fine feathers on my crown

But I’d rather be a Dabbie than a Yuck!


With a scaly silver tailfin and a noisy croaking song

I’m a mixture of a snapper and a frog

I’ve a sharp and toothy grimace and my legs are long and strong

But I’d rather be a Frapper than a Snog!


With some snipping snapping fingers and a soft and furry coat

I’m a mixture of a lobster and a mouse

I’ve a love of cheesy cheddar and I live beneath a boat

But I’d rather be a Mobster than a Louse!


With a tail so curly wurly and with furry golden fluff

I’m a mixture of a seahorse and a chick

I’m a cheeky chirpy cheeper who is into horsey stuff

But I’d rather be a Cheahorse than a Sick!


When it comes to any creature that is made up on the spot

One you’ve never ever seen or smelt or heard

There are many names to call them that are pretty or are not

Still I’d rather be a Birtle than a Turd!

David Rudkin

Poem of the Day



Ten days in a vase

The dead rose weeps red petals

Onto the white bench

Dianne Bates
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #9

Poetry Prompt#9

Dianne says: I originally made a list of so many red and white images — blood on a band aid, the Red Cross sign, Japan’s flag and so on, but this morning when I walked into our kitchen, the poem came to me as per this haiku.

Poem of the Day



Poetry Prompt #4 inspired Helen Hagemann to submit this selection of poems. Helen says: I have three grand-children under seven years of age (both parents work) and therefore I notice things like towels left on the floor! Also I like subjects that might possibly appeal to children.

The Subject Tonight is Towel

The subject tonight is towel

And from tomorrow night

And days after

Dad has no better topic

For us to discuss

Until we all

Hang up our towel

After showering.




Some people love walls.

They keep in yelping dogs,

But never cats or birds.

No one sees them talking at night

Yet walls do talk – to each other.

They compare positions, compositions.

Are they stone, cement or brick?

When they need our attention

They crumble for repair.

In winter a storm will blow them over.

Make gaps for geckos and hens.

Can you see the creatures scurrying

Passing two abreast?

Robert Frost loved walls, and said

They make good neighbours

Especially if they talked,

Had one’s garden trimmed,

Kept apple trees to one side

Pine cones to the other.


Do you love walls?





There are

So many leaves


Each hangs on a branch

In thousands of different ways

Your eyes will see differences


Infinite shapes: ovoid, needle

Heart-shaped, linear or pencil

You can draw them green in spring

Paint the tree from where they came

Crinkle a gum leaf for its scent


So many leaves

Unfolding and falling

Into your world







Poem of the Day


Am I a poet?

by Jenny Erlanger


Today we had to write a poem

and so I took the time

to think of all the words I could

that sound as if they rhyme.

The teacher said, “Don’t worry

finding special words to fit,”

then read us out a funny poem

that didn’t rhyme a bit.

So then I worked at trying to rid

the rhyming from my head,

to concentrate on verse

that didn’t rhyme at all instead.

At first I didn’t have a hope,

the rhymes kept coming back

but I tried really hard

and wrote the poem

you’re reading now,

but somehow

it just doesn’t

sound right.

  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #5



Jenny says: Writing rhyming poetry has played such a big part of my life since childhood, that despite my own efforts to break out of the mold at times, I keep returning to it as a means of self-expression.