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
’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!’
Sun Burned
Sun and surf, holidays and laughter
unless the sunscreen is slapped on after
the sun bites in and blisters appear
our hat blow off and lobsters adhere
our tents lay flat and our drinks slide away
sand-witches zap our bread into hay
buckets grow holes and spades lose their handles
and wouldn’t you know it, we break our sandals
our towels turn all crunchy, the barbie explodes
the tide washes out and the shore erodes
the sand grows so hot that we scurry like mice
wishing we’d taken the experts’ advice
‘Global warming,’ they had warned us ahead
so we tread more carefully and change the thread
care for our planet; reap new choices we’ve made
wearing sunscreen and hats; we play in the shade
holidays arrive . . . we all survive
‘Cheers!’ A toast with cool lemonade
Julie Cahill
Marmaduke our winning ram
won the raffle and home he came
T’weren’t US who won HIM at the show
the judges messed that up, you know.
saying ‘here’s your special prize
for guessing both his weight and size’
The Marm who wasn’t any ram
he chased the cows and drained Dad’s dam
he grew and spread with every day
eating cats and dogs and hay
And when the next show came around
Marm went on the roundabout
Another girl then took him home
My sister Jill, and home he came
