Cat Trick

My cat liked to climb on my bedroom chair,

Right next to my chest of drawers.

He would spring to the chest with a mighty leap

Where he landed on all fours.

There on the top, where a mirror stood,

He looked at me, as a winner would

While he smugly licked his paws.

This was a trick he’d performed before,

So I did what I had to do:

I’d found a shot of a lion’s head,

On a leaflet from the zoo.

I shaped it into the mirror’s frame:

One look would scare him and end his game,

He’d be off to his cat-a-loo!

I watched to see if he’d turn his head

And he’d face what was waiting there.

To see him jump promised such a treat:

The suspense would be hard to bear!

Then he turned. I could not believe my eyes:

He showed not a hint of the least surprise;

Not a bit did he seem to care.

Then as I was watching he lifted a paw

As if to greet someone he knew.

Was it his grandpa he thought that he saw?

Was he wondering just what he should do?

But stroking the lion, he shredded its face!

This meant his smug self soon appeared in its place,

As he thought: “I’m much smarter than you

Nature’s Monuments

“The fire came through in ‘sixty four,” the wizened farmer said.

“At first it headed for the house, but turned this way instead.

The plain back then was thick with trees,

Their drought-dry leaves caught fire with ease

And all too soon each tree became 

Fresh fuel for a fearsome flame!”

He paused as memory’s embers glowed and then he spoke again.

“That lifeless pair seen over there are all that now remain.

Since, at the time, more fires were feared,

The land round here was promptly cleared,

But those two trees remind us all

That here once stood a forest tall.”

Christmas Quest

Oh where can I find him?

It’s now Christmas Day.

It seems that we’ve lost him

Somewhere on the way.

I thought we might find him

At shops in the mall,

Or at Christmas parties,

But few signs at all.

I can’t see him hiding

There under the tree,

Amongst all the gifts

For my family and me!

When we sang all the carols

We called out his name,

But soon we forgot

Why it was that he came:

For he lived here among us

To teach and to guide

And to pay for our wrongs

Through the death that he died.

This Jesus now lives,

So the gospels declare.

Young and old who still seek him

Find this Saviour’s right there.

Christmas Eve

‘Twas the night before Christmas,

But I could not sleep.

I hit on a plan

And began counting sheep.

I got to one hundred,

But still was awake,

Which soon had me wond’ring

How long it would take.

I had to keep going –

What else could I do?

So soon I was up to

Two hundred and two.

When passing three hundred

I started to fret,

Then, reaching four hundred

I got quite upset.

As five hundred came

I  was ready to weep,

And can you believe it?

I cried myself to sleep!

Oscar the Octopus

Oscar the octopus opened his eyes:

Oscar the octopus got a surprise.

Over the sea-bed there glided a shark:

It was blocking the sunlight and making things dark!

So off to his den, Oscar started to swim:

He was hoping the shark wasn’t hungry for him!

Of course, do not think of an Oscar unarmed,

But even his eight might not keep him unharmed!

Oh, one other weapon he had, to confuse:

Some ink in a squirter he’d open and use.

But reaching his rock in a crevice to hide,

With eight arms all aching, he crawled safe inside!

Balls Galore!

It all began  when we were small:

(Perhaps the time we first could crawl);

We learnt to chase a rolling ball!

We picked the ball up with our hand;

We dropped it and would watch it land.

It bounced on floors, but plopped on sand.

In time, we knew most balls were round,

Though even egg-shaped balls we found:

You’d see them at a football ground.

Then see more balls in other sport:

Bowled or pitched; hit, thrown and caught;

Struck with strength and aimed with thought.

Kickers kick them seeking goals;

Golfers putt them into holes:

Different balls for different roles!

Sizes, shapes and colours many,

Balls that cost a pretty penny,

Pity those who haven’t any!

Anyone with friend and ball,

Whether it be large or small,

Never should be bored at all.

If you ever have the pleasure

To uncover buried treasure,

Then I hope that you will keep my needs in mind.

Since I’m just a poor old poet

And I don’t care if you know it,

Just as long as you are generous and kind.

Though my poems can be funny

They don’t earn me lots of money,

So I’ll thank you for whatever you can spare.

Or instead just take a look

At “The Mystery Box”, my book,

For it may be you will find some treasure there.

Autumn Elegy

Autumn leaves come tumbling down:

Orange, yellow, shades of brown;

Sun-dried, shaken, lost their grip:

Sailing breeze-borne like a ship;

Tossing, tacking, left and right:

Unpredictable their flight;

Watch them wander down the street, 

Where in huddled heaps they meet;

Left behind their mother tree:

Weeping still as each floats free.

Monty Edwards

 Meeting the Monster

One night a monster most grotesque

Crawled out from underneath my desk!

I closed my book and took a look

And felt that my whole body shook!

It had a head with horrid horns

That looked as sharp as roses’ thorns;

It’s nose was like a length of hose

Which drooped right down to touch its toes!

With eyes the size of fruit mince pies

It gazed at me in mute surprise

And then as it began to think,

I saw those eyes were turning pink,

While when its mouth was open wide,

The teeth were huge I saw inside!

A sound came out: more like a croak;

I cringed in fear, but then it spoke!

It rasped: ‘So sorry I’m so badly smelling:

I’ve come to help you with your spelling!’

But even as the monster spoke,

My dog went ‘Woof!’ and I awoke.

Monty Edwards