Tag Archives: James Aitchison

I Wish by James Aitchison

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I wish

I wish I’d see a world at peace

With harmony, not strife and war;

Where we care for one another,

And nobody is sad and poor.

 

I wish my school would safer be,

No playground bullies anymore;

If we forgave each other’s faults

How happy we’d all be, I’m sure.

 

I wish I’d see our oceans clean,

Without pollution’s ugly blight.

I wish the whales would live and thrive,

I wish for coral colours bright.

 

I wish, I wish, for happiness

For everyone — especially you.

If you wish with me, fingers crossed,

We might just see our wish come true.

 

James Aitchison   

Meander by James Aitchison

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MEANDER

A sleepwalker named Alexander

Left his bed so he could meander.

Eyes closed and snoring,

Arms out before him,

He ended up on the verandah.

 

But fate had in store a cruel twist

For this poor lonely somnambulist.

The next thing he knew

There was doggy-doo,

And his feet landed right in its midst!

 

So in future, my friend Alexander,

Take heed of a humble bystander:

Please stay in your bed,

Sheets over your head,

And don’t try to sleep’ly meander.

James Aitchison

Inside by James Aitchison

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Inside

 

What has my tummy got inside?

I often sit and wonder.

(Sometimes it makes the strangest noise,

like very angry thunder.)

 

Now, what did I eat for breakfast?

Not that much, as I recall.

Fried eggs, baked beans, and marmalade,

with hot porridge first of all.

 

And what about last night’s dinner?

That yummy seafood pasta —

With chocolate mousse to follow,

Now that might spell disaster!

 

And there’s something I’ve forgotten:

All those TV snacks last night —

Iced VoVos, Twisties, Jaffas —

Helped quell my appetite.

 

All the food that I’ve been eating

Has nowhere else to hide —

It’s all down in my tummy,

And I’d hate to see inside!

 

 James Aitchison

All About Muck by James Aitchison

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All about Muck

 

Have you ever been to Muck?

Or to the island of Eigg?

Perhaps you’ve been to Rum?

No, I’m not pulling your leg!

 

Three islands lost in the mist,

Just off the West Scottish coast.

That’s where you can eat haggis

Or black pudding served on toast.

 

Houses dot the lonely coves

Where sea eagles swoop and call,

And when the gale comes howling

You’ll see nobody at all.

 

Muck and Eigg and Rum, oh aye,

Three little worlds of their own.

So hop onto the ferry,

And you too can call them home.

James Aitchison

RIVER (Acrostic) Poems

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River, River by James Aitchison

River, river, I don’t know

River, river, where you flow

Your course varies north to south

Where’s your source?  Where’s your mouth?

You’re a winding watery snake!

(Now read it again, starting from the bottom)

James Aitchison

 

The River Goes to Sleep by Alys Jackson

Ripples leave their

Imprints on a soft and sandy rise,

Vines are dipping fingers while the

Evening winks her eyes;

Resting crimson ribbons round the river’s dusty sides.

Alys Jackson

 

RIVER by Margaret Pearce

Running to school one cold wet day

Into dreams of escape and running away

Visiting islands full of sea and sun

Enjoying swimming and lots of fun

Returned to reality dark and grey.

 

Required homework not done yet

Idiot me never a teacher’s pet

Very hard to get past this disaster

Explaining why I can’t work faster

Rewriting forever the homework set.

Margaret Pearce

 

River by Virginia Lowe

Resting river, a rill rocks our raft

Icy depths of ink immersing ivy

Vacillation, veering with veritable vigour,

Exploration of each elemental eddy is exciting

Run raft run, rejoicing round the rapids

Virginia Lowe

 

 

 

Garth and his Bath by James Aitchison

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Garth and his Bath

 

This is a tale of a boy named Garth

Who was far too lazy to have a bath.

 

One night when he did, he suddenly spied

A black ring running around every side.

 

When he asked his mum, “What’s that thing?”

She took a look and said, “A black bath ring!”

 

“It’s the dirt from when you walked in the mud,

“And that blob of gunk is when you fell ker-THUD!

 

“And see all that mess stuck around the ends?

“That came from playing with your friends.”

 

She got a soft cloth and her special spray,

And in no time at all scrubbed the bath ring away.

 

“That was hard work,” Garth told his mother,

“I have an idea to save all that bother.”

 

And he said with the widest smile she’d seen,

“Why don’t I stay dirty so the bath stays clean?”

 

 

James Aitchison