Tag Archives: Monty Edwards

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Rainbow’s End

A snail once heard the story

Which is very often told:

“If you reach a rainbow’s ending,

You will find a pot of gold!”

This idea was most appealing,

(Since the snail was very poor)

And it left him with a feeling

That he couldn’t quite ignore.

 

Every day when it was raining,

But the clouds began to clear,

He would scan the sky for rainbows

In the hope one would appear.

Then at last he thought he saw one

In the garden hothouse glass!

To the spot he slowly hurried

Streaking silver through the grass.

 

But oh, what disappointment,

When he reached that special place!

For of golden coins or treasure,

He discovered not a trace.

As he turned to leave, discouraged,

Something caught his tearful eye

And a potted gold chrysanthemum

Proved the story was no lie.

 

 Monty Edwards

 

 

  •  Poetryprompt20Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #20

Monty says: My thoughts went from the prompt’s golden flower, to a flower pot to hold it and so to the pot of gold. This gave me the rainbow, which with the snail in the picture, provided the story line.

 

 

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Sweet Treats

 

Here’s a list of special treats I’m sure you’d love to eat.

You might want to add some more to make the list complete:

 

Marvellous marshmallows, yielding and chewy;

Soft-centred chocolates, so creamy and gooey;

Fabulous fairy floss, wispy and sticky,

(Keeping your face clean’s especially tricky!);

Honeycomb crunchy and boiled lollies brittle:

None of this easy to stop at a little.

 

Yes, truly this sweet stuff is lovely to taste,

But too much is bound to add weight to your waist.

There’s one further warning: I’ll keep it quite brief.

Make sure that you never stop cleaning your teeth!

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

Prompt4

Author Comment: Connecting texture with food provided the belated inspiration for this poem, with sweets in particular of great interest to children (and not a few adults).

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The Prowler

by Monty Edwards

 

Do you see

the prehistoric prowler

lurking among the leaves

eager to devour

some helpless victim

insufficiently alert

to impending catastrophe?

You need neither fear

nor flee from

this reptilian rogue

for I find him exposed

as a harmless lizard.

  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #8

Prompt8

Author Comment: Guessing, but being unable to precisely identify the creature pictured in the prompt, I decided to use its identity as the basis for my poem.

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Words for Birds

by Monty Edwards

 

I have a cockatoo named Bert. I’m teaching him to talk.

For years the best that he could do was simply screech and squawk.

He made the most unpleasant sounds – I had to walk away.

I wondered which words would be best to get my Bert to say.

 

“A dictionary might help,” I thought, but that was clearly wrong:

To read right through a dictionary would take me far too long!

In any case, some words I found, I didn’t want to use,

Since words I couldn’t say myself were not the ones to choose!

 

My teacher knows a lot of words, but when I went to ask

What she’d suggest to be some words for such a tricky task,

The teacher only shook her head. “I really wouldn’t know,” she said.

That night before I went to bed, I thought to ask my Dad instead.

 

My Dad said: “Why not ask your Mum? If you want words, then she’s the one!”

So off I went to find my Mum, but words for birds? She gave me none.

Mum said: “Now son, it’s getting late. It’s time for bed!” Those words I hate.

It seemed I must accept my fate. To get her help I’d have to wait.

 

I went to bed. What could I do? I hoped that sleep might bring a clue.

A word. Just one. Perhaps a few. If only wishes could come true!

 

***

 

Next day I had a great idea. The place to start became quite clear.

The word was one Bert often heard and perfect for my noisy bird.

Perhaps you’d like to try to guess the word that brought me such success?

Before your brain begins to hurt, I’d better tell you. It was . . .  “Bert”.

 

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #10

Prompt10

Author Comment: The idea for this poem came from “squawk” as a rhyme for the prompt word  “talk”. Then, as I began to write, the ideas kept coming and determined the final destination.

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Train Lines

by Monty Edwards

 

If you dearly want to gain

A skill

Allow me to explain

The drill

You really have to train

Until

You can do it again

And again

At will.

 

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #13

PoetryPrompt13

Author comment: I thought I’d try to work with the keyword as a verb. I seemed to be on the way to some rare (for me) free verse, but the rhyming possibilities took over, resulting in perhaps my shortest ever poem.

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Eight amazing animals

by Monty Edwards

 

Animals ev’rywhere always amaze:

Big beefy buffaloes quietly graze;

Cats with their claws out can climb and can scratch;

Dogs dive for balls using teeth for a catch;

Elephants’ ears are as big as can be;

Foxes from hunters can speedily flee;

Gentle giraffes are remarkably tall;

Heavyweight hippos have ears that are small.

I like the ibex. It surely can climb.

Just don’t wait for zebra. I haven’t the time!

 

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #11 – Write an Alphabet Poem.

poemhand

Author comment:  For an alphabetic assignment I wanted a subject of interest to children that was represented by many examples. This would help provide maximum flexibility for the alphabetic choices and the accompanying rhymes. Animals seemed ideal. I decided to underline the alphabetic structure with some alliteration and the final line, but stopped at J to avoid monotony and less convincing examples.

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Easter Unwrapped!

by Monty Edwards

 

Easter’s not about a bunny ,

Nor the eggs in shops you’ll see

Wrapped in foil with shells of chocolate:

Mostly empty , you’ll agree.

Easter’s all about a Saviour:

One who died and rose again;

Paid a price to bring us freedom;

Lives for evermore to reign.

 

We can leave our guilt behind us.

Jesus bore it on his cross.

Start again, and grateful serve him,

Rescued from eternal loss.

Ours is wisdom to obey him:

He alone our rightful King;

This is lasting satisfaction

Chocolate eggs can never bring.

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #12

Poetry Prompt 11

Author comment: Amid today’s crass commercialism, the poem attempts to remind readers of Easter’s original meaning and significance which remain important to millions the world over.

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My Secret Place

by Monty Edwards

 

Where can I find a secret space:

A place that’s just for me,

Where I can go and no one know,

Or looking, fail to see?

 

There none will tell me what to do,

Nor doubt that what I say is true.

Captain I’ll be – without a crew,

There in my secret place!

 

Joys that I have, who then, will share?

Who’ll cheer me up, when life’s not fair?

Who, when I’m hurt, will quickly care,

There in my secret place?

 

Here’s my new plan for what to do:

Search for a secret space for two!

No secret place that’s just for one

Can have all I want to make it fun.

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #1Poetryprompt1

Author comment: Although time hidden away in private can be a welcome relief from people or situations, it has its drawbacks. I want readers young and old to recognise that we all need other people to truly enrich our lives and then take the initiative by being a friend to someone else.

 

 

 

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Colours of Courage

by Monty Edwards

 

When I see both red and white,

I think about a fabled fight

That took place long ago.

A soldier brave rode out to save

A maiden from a dragon’s cave.

That dragon was his foe!

 

With lance aloft and poised to pierce,

George rode toward that dragon fierce

And struck a lethal blow.

Then all at once its fiery breath,

Extinguished by its sudden death

Was scarcely seen to glow!

 

The horse, once white, was quite a sight

With blood-red smears gained in the fight:

A most courageous steed!

Without his horse, St George, of course,

Would hardly be a fighting force

And likely, first to bleed!

 

In fighting flame, George made his name.

When vict’ry came, he gained great fame.

“The man’s a saint!” folk cried.

Now freed from fear and full of cheer,

They praised St George one day each year,

Long after he had died.

 

The story grew as stories do.

I fear that few may think it true.

I leave the verdict up to you.

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #9

Poetry Prompt#9

Author Comment: Lacking inspiration, I began to focus on the colours in the prompt, rather than the shapes. I grew up in the St George district of Sydney, my sisters attended St George Girls’ High School, while I followed and participated in St George sporting teams, all featuring red and white in combination. It was time to research the legend and begin to acquaint a new generation with it.

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A Zooish Riddle

by Monty Edwards

 

Today I’m all excited ’cause we’re going to the zoo

And there’s something that we’ll see there that I’ll now describe to you.

Since it’s found throughout Australia you would hardly call it rare –

Live for long in any city and you’ll surely find one there.

 

Not so common in the country, but you still may see a few,

It’s no cuddly koala nor a bounding kangaroo.

Do not think of an echidna or a little bandicoot

This is something that you’ll never ever hear described as cute.

 

In appearance, on occasions, it’s been likened to a snake,

But it’s certainly not legless in the moves that it can make.

If you see a very large one, you will wish it wasn’t so,

Should it move along quite slowly, you may even see it grow!

 

You can rule out any reptile, bird or fish that comes to mind,

But I will not tease you further, that would really be unkind.

It’s a line. No, not a lion. There, I’ve given you a clue.

It’s a line of ticket buyers gaining entry through a queue!

 

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #7

Prompt7

Author comment: I found the array of spellings used to convey the final sound of “queue” quite remarkable and used several. Among them, the zoo provided a useful context for the poem, as aside from rhyming with the key word, the zoo is a familiar and positive experience for most children. Describing the queue as if an unnamed exhibit seemed a good way of arousing curiosity without compromising truth on the way to a surprise conclusion.