Poem of the Day

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THE ELEPHANT IN THE FRIDGE

 

There’s an elephant hiding in the fridge?

How can you be so sure?

There are footprints in the margarine

and eggshells on the floor.

 

How did an elephant manage

to get himself inserted?

It must have been a treat to see

the skill that he exerted.

 

Its elementary, my friend,

he slid inside with ease.

He clearly used the margarine

as lubricating grease.

© Allan Cropper
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #

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THE MUSIC BOX

 

Tea for two, and a biscuit with Granny

giggles and games, I recall there were many

but clearest of all,

I recall the small music box.

Hidden inside, a tiny ballerina

waiting to dance there, in front of her mirror

at my beck and call

once I had unclipped the locks.

Lifting the lid, I would take a peak under

up she would pop, not so much as a blunder

though not very tall

she would stretch to the sky

pirouettes fashioned on blue satin lining

tutu pure white, in the limelight, there shining

I somehow recall

just for Granny and I

© Allan Cropper
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #16

Poem of the Day

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Moon Landing

Hey diddle duddle

what a terrible muddle

when the astronaut stepped on the moon

The cow looked confused

the wee dog was amused

and the cat and the fiddle just spooned

Allan Cropper

Allan said: Just a little bit on nonsense which sprang to mind when I saw your list of word prompts in Poetry Prompt #14

 

 

Poem of the Day

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Muddled Monotreme

 

I poked a purple platypus

So playfully I prodded

It peered out of a pumpkin patch

it winked at me and nodded

The platypus was at a loss

no reason was there known

why he was in a pumpkin patch

and not his river home

I gently pushed him in a box

this muddled monotreme

and set him free to swim again

down at our local stream

 

© Allan Cropper
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #9

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Message in a Bottle

 

A little bit of litter

loitered there upon the sand.

A green and glassy bottle

with no label showing brand.

I wonder if it floated here

from some far distant land,

with a message at its core for me to read,

sent by a sailor stranded and in need.

 

A little weathered letter

written by the sailor’s hand,

send here across the seven seas

on waves the wind had fanned.

Is this the destination

that the messenger had planned?

Alas, I find the note has since been freed,

and now the bottle’s stranded too, indeed.

Allan Cropper
  • In response to Poetry Prompt #7

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SCHOOL DAZE

My mind is muddled, I feel befuddled,

bewildered and confused.

I think the space inside my brain

has been completely used.

There’s no room left for algebra,

or history or dates,

So I’ll be marching out of school,

please open up the gates.

What’s that you say? You’ll ring my mum?

You’ll call my dad as well?

Well, silly me, there seems to be

some room left in there still.

I guess I’ll stay and learn some more

until the final bell.

© Allan Cropper
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

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Poem of the Day

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Through my Window

 

Morning comes in through my window

making shadows on my wall

I can see the roses waving

I can hear the magpies call

In the street the dogs are barking

busy people start their day

I stay wrapped within my doona

till it’s time for me to play

Morning comes in through my window

beams of sunlight make me smile

Mummy’s calling me to breakfast

‘In a while, Mum. In a while’

Then I smell the crispy bacon,

maple syrup, pancakes, more.

Morning comes in through my window,

I go racing out the door.

 

Allan Cropper
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #6

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