Tag Archives: Jenny Erlanger

Blabbermouth by Jenny Erlanger

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My parents bought a parrot
and I taught it how to speak.
I wish I’d also taught it
when to shut its noisy beak.

It told my little brother
I considered him a sook
and then informed my sister
that I’d scribbled on her book.

I thought it might have finished
but it still had more to say.
It told my dad I hadn’t
done the homework for the day.

It told my mum her perfume
had a most peculiar smell
then added that her hairstyle
didn’t suit her very well.

Our parrot’s clearly clever
and it’s been a breeze to teach.
It’s made amazing progress
since it’s learnt the art of speech.

But now I have a problem
that’s undoubtedly occurred
because of my confessions
to this brash, outspoken bird.

Photo from Pexels by Caio

Abracadabra by Jenny Erlanger

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The tadpole’s now a frog – how strange!
and where’s that duckling gone?
It’s undergone some mystic change
and turned into a swan!
The caterpillar’s been reshaped,
been made a butterfly.
Once, just a bug, it’s now escaped
to navigate the sky.
Spectacular and free to see
in grasslands, trees and ponds
these wondrous acts of wizardry
require no magic wands.

Photo by Pixabay

Dinner Invitation by Jenny Erlanger

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Last night we had a dinner guest.
The food was such a treat.
I know you’ll all be so impressed
with what we had to eat.

A light and fluffy cheese soufflé
then lobster thermidor
And for dessert, a crème brûlée,
the best I’ve had, for sure.

But now it’s back to snags and chops,
to carrots, rice and beans
to tasteless soups and other slops,
to normal food routines.

A dinner guest, it seems to me
is all you really need.
to skip an uninspiring tea
and get a decent feed.

Attention Please by Jenny Erlanger

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You say I haven’t listened
to a word you’ve said today
or to anything you’ve told me in the week.
But I think, in my defence,
that it is pretty fair to say
when I’m in the mood to listen, you don’t speak.

The Skeleton by Jenny Erlanger

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I stare into the hollows

of his smiling, bony face

and I wonder how he looked

with all his other bits in place.

Was he beautiful or ugly?

Was he fat or was he lean?

Was he just a little weakling?

Was he built like a machine?

Did he have the smooth complexion

that belongs to movie stars?

Was his face a mass of pimples

or of scary-looking scars?

The skeleton says nothing

but I’m judging from his grin

that he’s rather glad he’s free

from all that muscle, flesh and skin.

Town Invasion by Jenny Erlanger

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The monster approaching with giant black eyes
looks hostile and ever so chilling.
Its freaky companion, of frightening size,
is certainly out for a killing.

And standing nearby is another weird creep.
This one’s pretty skinny and hairy.
It must be a zombie, it seems half asleep.
I’ve never seen something so scary.

And here comes a creature with blood-coated jaws
whose stare is quite clearly satanic.
It’s carving the air with its menacing claws
and looks most decidedly manic.

A lot more have gathered and formed into groups,
they’re constantly shrieking or grunting.
Assembled together in nightmarish troops,
They’re focused on scaring and hunting.

The treats have been awesome, the feast’s been a blast,
as always, a night to remember.
Of course, the excitement is not going to last.
Tomorrow’s the start of November.

In response to Celebrations prompt

The First Day of School by Jenny Erlanger

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I’d soon be walking through that door,
I’d waited all those years.
But nothing had prepared me for
that sudden flood of tears.
As one who loves to seize the day,
who takes whatever comes,
I couldn’t wait to get away
from all those weeping mums.

Field Action by Jenny Erlanger

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Ran my heart out,
grabbed the ball,
triple bounced it,
took a fall,
couldn’t hold it,
lost control,
marked the next one,
kicked a goal!

Little Red Riding Hood by Jenny Erlanger

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Her problems started long before

the poor child was pursued

by that conniving carnivore

who treated her as food.

Yes, long before she crossed that wood

to drop in on her nan,

and long before she wore a hood

her troubles all began.

How mortified she must have felt,

and I’d have felt the same,

at having heartlessly been dealt

with such a stupid name.

Born to Drive by Jenny Erlanger

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I tell Mum when to go
and when to stop, at every light.
I tell her she should know
to keep pedestrians in sight.
I say she has to show
she’s turning left or veering right.
I help her with the most important stuff.

Already I’ve begun
to dream of how it’s going to feel
when I become the one
who gets to sit behind the wheel.
I think of all the fun
I’ll have when driving cars for real.
For now, though, back-seat driving is enough.