Tag Archives: Monty Edwards

The Dreamers by Monty Edwards

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Once a waddling goose and gander

On a search for something grander

Left their farmyard to meander

Down a stream.

Now the goose was named Cassandra

And the gander, Alexander,

With a new home by the water

As their dream.

 

They had found the farmyard boring

With the crows’ incessant cawing

And the sleepy dogs all snoring

Through the day.

While the river looked appealing

And it gave the pair a feeling

In their new home by the water

They would stay.

 

But the farmer had been boasting

Of the geese he planned on roasting

At a dinner he was hosting

For his friend.

So he searched in haste to catch them

And he speedily despatched them.

Thus the dreamers by the river

Met their end.

 

Springtime by Monty Edwards

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When people say: “Spring’s late this year!”

They must be wrong – that’s seems quite clear.

It always starts on one firm date,

So cannot possibly be late!

At school I’m sure that we rehearsed

That Spring begins September 1st.

If every year that does not change,

To say: “Spring’s late”, seems very strange.

 

But if you’re north of the equator,

Spring for you is six months later.

That would mean you are not here,

But in the other hemisphere.

September there’s not Spring at all:

It starts their Autumn or their Fall,

When trees’ green leaves may turn to brown

And from above come floating down.

 

Should someone say that Spring is late,

I do not start some great debate

And tell them what I learnt at school

And treat them like a silly fool,

Since change, for seasons, can be slow.

It’s warmth they want: their plants to grow,

Their flowers to bud and birds to sing.

Till that time comes, it won’t seem Spring.

 

Poem of the Day

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Brave?

 

Brave?

Be brave!

Be brave because . . .

Be brave because boldness . . .

Be brave because boldness brings . . .

Be brave because boldness brings benefits.

Be brave because boldness brings bigger benefits!

 

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #29

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The Snooze

 

When Dad’s at the seashore,

This bit he likes best:

After all the swimming,

Take a well-earned rest.

Once lunch is completed,

This is what he’ll choose:

Lying on his towel,

He will have a snooze.

 

Soaking up the sunshine,

Lying on the beach,

Seeking for a suntan,

Drink within his reach,j

How long he will lie there

None of us can guess.

Asked if he’s still snoozing

He just mumbles:”Yes”.

 

We return to swimming,

Wait for him to come,

When it doesn’t happen,

We send back our Mum.

Suddenly Mum wakes him:

“Dave, you’re getting hot!

You look like a lobster,

Lifted from the pot!”

 

Monty Edwards

 Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #15

 

Monty says: “I considered calling the poem “Redback!”, but in order not to confuse, chose “The Snooze”. Although the poem ends as above, one or both the following verses may be added for didactic purposes.”

 

Dad forgot to sunscreen:

Didn’t slip, slop, slap;

Left his head uncovered:

Didn’t wear his cap.

Now his back is blistered,

Face is sore and red,

He will struggle sleeping

Even in his bed.

 

We all learnt a lesson

On the beach that day,

Sunshine is a blessing

When you want to play,

But the sun can hurt you,

If you don’t take care

Best to have protection

With you everywhere.

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About Elephants

 

An elephant has a very long nose

That’s sometimes used like a powerful hose

And once that trunk has been exerted,

Anyone close may well be squirted.

 

Note this elementary fact:

Eggshells won’t remain intact

If an elephant’s massive legs

Place his feet on a poor bird’s eggs.

 

It’s OK if you feel hesitant

Every time you’re near an elephant.

Watch that trunk – you could be washed!

Mind those feet – you may be squashed!

 

Monty Edwards

Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #26

Monty says: “I didn’t get far with rhymes for the key words, but eventually was able to compose a couple of verses which included all the words and then added a final verse to tie it all together.”

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The Rule

 

My mother’s voice was loud and clear:

No use pretending not to hear!

I knew the words that soon would come.

They always left me feeling glum.

 

“No, no, no!

I said you may not go.

Unless you clear up all your mess

You will not hear me answer ‘Yes’.

Now pick those clothes up off the floor

And put them in their proper drawer.

Then, all your toys must be away

And after that, yes, go and play.”

 

Mum’s tone of voice left me no choice,

But task once done, meant play and fun.

 

Monty Edwards
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #27

Monty says: “Despite some changes in parenting styles over the years, I suspect many children (and parents) would still be familiar with a rule of this kind and its benefits.”

 

 

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Dinner Time Rhyme

 

Did you hear how little Miss Muffet

Sat down to eat some food on a tuffet?

Her curds and whey were soft and wet

(These curds and whey are what you get

When using milk for making cheese,

So do not look for them on trees).

 

If you went out tonight to eat

Instead you’d likely have a seat

And choose a favourite food or two

And wait till it was served to you,

Or from the buffet eat your fill,

But not so much it made you ill.

 

Now should Miss Muffet too turn up

With curds and whey in bowl or cup

And say: “This buffet’s not for me,

Try this, it’s better, you’ll agree.”

Here’s what I suggest you say:

“Let’s go and get some takeaway.”

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #20

Monty says: “A buffet dinner celebration with family a few months back came to mind with the prompt. This got me thinking about how confusing a child might find the pronunciation of “buffet”, having been exposed at some point to little Miss Muffet, let alone what she ate, so I decided to explore both in this simple poem.”

 

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The Spell

 

Four metres tall

or possibly five metres!

It stares at us

with one red eye

as we approach.

 

We pause,

held by its gaze,

not daring to move forward;

not wanting to retreat.

 

People join us,

but they go no further than we

as if hypnotised

by that same red eye.

 

Click, click, click . . .

 

Suddenly, the red eye disappears

and we are free

to go safely

across the busy road.

 

The little green man

has broken the spell!

 

Monty Edwards
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #13

Monty says: “The prompt had me thinking of traffic lights, which seemed very mundane for a simple rhyme, so I felt I’d recast it to inject some drama using a bit of imagery and free verse.”

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Question Time

 

I have a younger brother,

Who recently turned four.

He asks Mum many questions

And then he asks some more.

I tried to ask our mother

Why he kept asking “Why?”

The answer that she gave me

Was one enormous sigh.

 

She then breathed in quite deeply

And started to explain

How asking all those questions

Was strengthening his brain.

For as we all get older

And use our ears and eyes,

Our questions bring us answers:

The “Why?”s help make us wise.

 

Monty Edwards
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #17

Monty says: “The numerous question marks of the prompt made me think of the many questions asked by young children that may test a parent’s patience, but are an essential part of a child’s development.”

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The Exhibit

 

The box looked rather ancient:

It was made of weathered wood.

They’d placed it on a varnished shelf

Where now it mutely stood.

Its latch was rather rusty,

Suggesting use at sea,

I guessed it was a sailor’s box:

That’s how it seemed to me.

 

I saw on it some markings

And wondered what they meant,

A letter “C” and “26”

But what was their intent?

Was “C” perhaps for “Captain”,

But why the numbers too?

I came to the conclusion

More likely “C” was “Crew”.

 

Each crewman had a number,

And each his box to store

Whatever most he valued,

Till he was back on shore.

I felt this was the answer.

What else then could it be,

But storage for a sailor?

That’s how it seemed to me.

 

The box was quite discoloured

As if it once was wet:

A relic from a wreck perhaps,

That divers dived to get.

Now salvaged from the sea bed,

Displayed for all to see,

It still held many secrets.

This fascinated me!

 

Whoever once had used it,

Must surely now have died.

I looked at it intently:

What had it held inside?

Beneath it was a notice.

Perhaps this held a clue?

I stopped so I could read it,

As I’d seen others do.

 

Just then I heard my teacher

Quite firmly call my name.

It seemed my class was moving on

So I must do the same.

Our bus outside was waiting.

I clearly couldn’t stay,

But I am now determined

I’ll go back there one day!

Monty Edwards
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #12

 

Monty says: “I wrote this in sympathy with children who often find it frustrating when they are prevented by adult time constraints from satisfying their curiosity about the things that interest them. Despite this, some children will go on to demonstrate that they have the confidence and resourcefulness to continue their search for answers independently.