Poem of the Day

2 Comments

Mixed-up Banquet

 

“What’s for dinner?” asked the snail from the rusty garden pail.

“Some lettuce and banana,” cried the skinny, young Iguana.

“The compost heap smells great … Hurry up! You’re running late.”

“I can’t go any faster,” wailed the snail as Ig raced past her.

 

“What’s for dinner?” asked the kid as he paddled near a squid.

“Some shrimp and little fish,” said the squid. “A tasty dish.

The water’s warm and fine. Come on in so we can dine.”

“The surf’s too deep and rough, so I’ll fetch my brothers Gruff.”

 

“What’s for dinner?” barked the dog as she raced towards a hog.

“I’m slurping applesauce. Can you guess the second course?”

“A Dagwood Dog or two? I don’t know. Give me a clue.”

“It’s frozen, in a cuppy. Starts with ‘S’ and ends with ‘Puppie’.”

 

“What’s for dinner?” purred the cat on the dusty, worn-out mat.

“Swiss cheese and raisin toast,” squeaked the mouse beside a post.

“I’d rather catch fresh meat,” yawned the cat. “A little treat.

My tummy cries for food and my eyes are set on ___.”

 

Lynette Oxley

 

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #20

Lynette said: I wanted the poem to have internal rhyme and be a guessing game.

Poem of the Day

Leave a comment

Croc-o-diner

The crocodile has every right

to fall in love or have a fight.

He likes his home.  He wants to stay

and have a feed and sleep and play.

 

But better not get in his way

or YOU won’t see another day!

 

So when you travel our great land

respect this resident so grand

and DON’T go swimming where he hides

among the rivers, banks and tides.

 

It’s not HIS fault that tourists may

taste just like croccy’s take-away!

Celia Berrell
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #20

 

 

 

 

Celia said: My husband is considering working in a remote coastal location in Far North Queensland where it is possible to find crocodiles lurking under the buildings.  To all the people who work up there, PLEASE be careful and keep yourselves off their dinner menu!