“Polly Rules” by Julie Cahill

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Polly Puss sat on the fence

sailing with his fate

Until the day the farmer opened up the farmyard gate

The sheep went out

the cows came in

which left Puss quite bemused

addressing those then left to listen

before access was closed

Alpca stretched their long necks longer

their ears pricked to his chatter

‘It matters that the sheep were led;

that cows made all that clatter

This fence is the dividing line

thin as this here whisker’

Pussy plucked to prove his point

which drew a nasty blister

‘But anyway, I rule the roost

from here, this narrow line

So just stay put you woolley herd

alpacas will be fine

You know, the gate was opened

so the tractor could pass through

Those beasts weren’t meant to cross the fence

The system’s gone askew

The grass is never greener

on the other side, you see

Those sheep and cows will end up

on the farmer’s plate for tea.’

“Polly Nation” Julie Cahill

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We’ve just installed a bee hive

in our garden – what a fright.

Well, that is what I thought when bumble bees came into sight.

I’d squeal and flap my arms around-

‘Don’t come next to me.

Get out of our garden, you’re spoiling dolly’s tea.

Polly put the kettle on,

we’ll scare them off with steam.’

It didn’t work and all I did was run and hide and scream.

But Mum and Dad explained my fear

which swiftly flew away.

‘Bees are good ecology,

ensuring coming days.

Busy workers demonstrate the ethics of hard work,

collecting pollen from the flowers-

the spreading is a perk.

Without the buzzy, fuzzy mites

we wouldn’t have our food.’

And being as I love my grub,

‘That would be mighty rude.’

“Veg I’m Mad” by Julie Cahill

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Veg I’m Mad

Broccoli shmockerly
peas and beans
What’s the fuss about eating our greens?
Spinach cabinach
Brussells sprouts
Bat off the flatulants
with monstrous clouts
I have to eat them
at Mum’s command
‘They’ll make you fit even when they’re bland
They’ll clean your insides –
bowels and blood
You’ll thank me in hindsight.’
‘But they taste like mud.’

”Alexander the Great” by Julie Cahill

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Alexander the Great
We had a tortoise, years ago
His name was Alexander
who started off so very small
until he chose to wander
He wandered from his tiny pond
waving to the tadpole
He wandered through the bonfire, cold
was coated then in charcoal
He wandered past the washing line
and through my mother’s washbowl
then dried himself in sunshine
upon a grassy high knoll
from where he spotted everything
and lolloped toward our greens
He ate our peas and cabbages and the yucky runner beans
that couldn’t run away at all
creating an enormous stink
contradictory to their status
prepostrous, don’t you think?
They were shreaded thinner and then devoured
Loud belches filled the air
We didn’t want to scold our pet, we didn’t want to stare
But such was his ungainly greed
to protect him I told lies
a greed which gave him bucky teeth
and crossed my guilty eyes
He gobbled all our carrots, sprouts and all alike
So Mum said in her sternest voice
to ride off on his bike
In other words she shoved him with great effort, through the gate
so off our Alex wandered
to face his greedy fate
Dipping toes and then his nose
in streams till he expanded
He drank so much he almost popped
which sounds all cacky-handed
His shell kept Alex quite intact
he looked just like a monster
the neighbours they all screamed, in fact
as though watching a blockbuster
Alex thundered through the land
the streams and garden beds
He blundered off along the streets
and turned the people’s heads
He ate the grocer’s shops, complete
He drank the rivers dry
Until the RSPCA
stepped in and said ‘goodbye’
to freedom, that is, and our pet was taken to the zoo
But plans are made and plans go wrong as often as they do
They’d brought a crane and loaded Alexander on a truck
They couldn’t get him off again – well and truely stuck
But as he grew he outgrew the truck
and wandered off unaided
So if you find a giant tortoise
you’ll know you’ve been invaded

“Flying Tale” by Julie Cahill

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Flying Tale

The most favorite pet we ever had 

was little ‘Peanut,’ named by Dad

The tiny fit upon my hand

soon sprung out 

like a rubber band

When laying, he was Peanut Paste

fortunately without the taste

When chasing ‘Fly,’

our other dog 

t’was left behind at every log

We watched Fly in the longest grass

grass that bent

while Peanut chased his . . . tail 😁

Julie Cahill 

“Song of the Wood” by Julie Cahill

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’Ssssshhhhh!’ the trees whispered

and the children froze 

absorbing sounds; standing up on their toes. 

‘Ribbit!’ The sound of a deep voiced frog.

‘What’s that?’ asked a child, hiding under a log.

‘Ribbit!’ said the deep voiced frog again.

‘Get lost’ said the girl in the wooded glen. 

‘Ssssshhhhh!’ said the trees

and the frog cleared his throat. 

‘Ribbit ribbit . . . riiiiiiiiiiiiiibit!’

‘Chchchchchchchchch  ‘ – a cricket tuned. 

‘Riiiiiiiiiiiibit’ the frog sung, renewed.

The wood came alive with wondrous ballett.

‘Chchchchchchchchch’ – the string quatet.

‘Chomp chomp chomp’ went the hungry deer. 

‘Ribbit.’ ‘Chomp chomp chomp chomp chomp chomp.’

‘Ribbit’. ‘Chomp chomp chomp chomp chomp chomp.’

‘Chchchchchchchchch’ ‘Chomp chomp’

‘Chchchchchchchchch’ ‘Chomp chomp’

And a boar joined in- bold and brave.

‘Stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp.’

‘Ribbit!’ ‘Stomp!’ ‘Ribbit!’ ‘Stomp’!’

‘Stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp!’

‘SSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH!’

“Internal Relection” by Julie Cahill

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The kitten looked and saw

his very own reflection
But ’twas not him to others looking
in the cat’s direction
The cat had never seen himself
as no one ever does
and the lion in the mirror
wore the same beige mottled fuzz
He licked his paw
when the kitten licked
he yawned although much wider
and when they both lay down to sleep
they breached the glass divider
When they woke together
at exactly the same moment
they smiled at one another
and roared with quiet contentment