Tag Archives: Monty Edwards

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Clown Caper

 

Once a climbing clown,

Clambered up a tower,

Colander in hand,

Plus a cauliflower.

What he had in mind,

No-one seemed to know

And it wasn’t clear,

How far up he’d go.

 

After quite a climb

He had reached the top,

Items still in hand,

He then let them drop!

Neither looked the same,

Fallen from the tower,

Not the colander,

Nor the cauliflower!

 
Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #36

Poetry Prompt #36Monty says: I enjoy writing rhyming verse with a bit of humour included and sometimes short lines add to the effect. Rhyming words for ‘cauliflower’ and ‘clown’ in ‘tower’ and ‘down’ helped provide the ideas for the basic content of the poem.

 

 

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The Mystery Box

 

My lunch for school’s a mystery box and here’s the reason why:

I cannot guess just what’s inside, however hard I try.

There’s something different every day: Mum treats it as a game.

The only thing I’m sure about: no day will be the same.

 

If Monday’s roll has Vegemite, then Tuesday’s might have jam.

A sandwich made for Wednesday’s lunch might well be beef or ham.

On Thursday then, a salad wrap could be the big surprise,

But one school lunch on Friday something shocking met my eyes:

 

My mystery box was oozing with a greenish-yellow trickle!

There must have been a mix-up with Dad’s favourite: cheese and pickle!

While Dad enjoyed my peanut paste spread on his bread with honey,

My sandwich had an awful taste. Don’t laugh. It wasn’t funny!

 

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #32

poetry prompt #32Monty says: I didn’t like pickle at all as a child and would have been horrified to find it in my school lunch.

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Wally’s Folly

My mate Wally had a collie that he gave the name of Molly

And he thought it would be jolly to pull Molly on a trolley,

But poor Molly, when she tried it, was determined not to ride it,

So that once it hit a bump, she decided she would jump.

 

Now when Molly left the trolley she soon showed me Wally’s folly,

For without the weight of Molly even faster went the trolley

And while Wally tried to race it, he was failing to outpace it,

So it quickly knocked him over, but with luck he fell on clover.

 

Soon he had a lick from Molly who felt sorry for poor Wally,

But both Wally and his collie just ignored the upturned trolley,

Then with Wally’s heels near bleeding and the collie always leading,

They went back to where they started and much wiser I departed.

 

Monty Edwards
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #27

saffy1Monty says: The prompt had me thinking about the different breeds of dogs and their various temperaments. I then saw the possibilities for some humorous rhyme, featuring a gentle intelligent collie.

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Squirrel Sightings

 

Have you ever seen a squirrel? You may think them rather cute,

But they’re certainly not stupid, for they’re really quite astute.

They take notice of the weather when the winter’s on its way

And store all the food that’s needed for each coming frosty day.

For that is when they snuggle in the hollow of a tree,

Or they hide among the bushes where they’re difficult to see.

 

Every squirrel’s quite a builder when it wants to make a nest

So that as things get much colder there’s a place for warmth and rest.

If you should see a squirrel when you’re at the park to play,

Don’t be too disappointed if the squirrel darts away.

Watch him hurry, scamper, scurry, for you’ll seldom see him walk.

Perhaps he’s just too busy to take time to stop and talk.

 

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #30

Poetry Prompt #30

Monty says: I enjoy writing poetry for the opportunity it gives to inspire, challenge or entertain people I may never meet personally. I also enjoy attempting to conquer such constraints as form, meter and rhyme by my choice and arrangement of words in order to produce my own unique response to a theme or prompt. For me it is like tackling a complex puzzle for which there may be many possible solutions, but few that are completely satisfying as an offering to potential readers.

 

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High Tea

 

When pelicans are flying low,

With open beaks they say “Hello”

To any fish they gladly see

That could provide a tasty tea,

For like a furry flippered seal,

They do enjoy a fishy meal.

 

So after taking time to greet,

These hungry birds prepare to eat,

(While under beaks, there hangs a store

For extra, should they want some more).

Then up they rise to sail the sky:

Their beaks too full to say “Goodbye”!

 

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #28

Poetry Prompt #28Monty says: I wanted to get both greetings and goodbyes into a single poem, but the result promised to be rather long. I tried using a short telephone call for content, but wasn’t satisfied with the outcome, so contrived a brief encounter of familiar creatures at the seaside.

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Winter: A Child’s Guide

When the wind howls through the trees;

When you fear your feet will freeze;

When dark clouds obscure the sun;

Know that winter has begun.

 

Now’ s the time the days seem short;

Now a cold can soon be caught;

Now more frequent rain will fall;

It’s just winter  – that is all.

 

Thunderstorms may come and go;

On high mountains there’ll be snow;

Frost may form upon the grass:

This is winter. It will pass.

 

Winter’s time for active play.

Grab your gear without delay!

Put your boots on! Join your team!

Soon much warmer it will seem!

 

If you’d rather play inside,

Indoor games wait to be tried.

With your family or a friend,

Boredom soon will quickly end.

 

Start a hobby and collect.

Fix a toy that someone wrecked.

Solve a puzzle. Draw or paint.

Clean your room. Your Mum will faint!

 

Drink hot chocolate by the fire.

Read an author you admire.

Whether you’re a girl or boy,

Don’t miss out on winter joy!

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #15

Poetry Prompt15

Author Comment: My aim in the poem was to help children think positively about winter, since despite its drawbacks and discomforts, these are temporary and the season still offers many opportunities for real enjoyment.

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The Happy Cricket

 

There was once a little cricket,

Who was happy as could be.

He was chirpy before breakfast.

He  was chirpy after tea.

He was chirpy when the sun rose

He was chirpy when it set.

When it comes to being chirpy,

No more chirpy could you get!

 

At one time when he was chirping

As the sun came up at dawn,

He was hopping through the flowers;

He was jumping on the lawn;

But, quite suddenly, a sprinkler

Shot him with a shower of spray

And he didn’t feel like chirping

Till the sprinkler went away.

 

Now this jolly little cricket

Really  loved to have a dance,

He would look around for partners

When he ever had the chance.

They would waltz around the kitchen;

They would jig right down the hall.

Where they really kicked their heels up

Was the weekly cricket ball!

 

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #23

Poetry Prompt #22

Monty says: Lacking inspiration, I tried imagination and hit on a cricket ball!

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Winter Picnic

 

One picnic with my family I would rather now forget,

Since it started with a thunderstorm that left us very wet.

We ran like rabbits to the car and tried to eat our lunch,

But our sandwiches were soggy and our biscuits lacked their crunch.

 

We aimed to keep the rain out so we wound the windows up,

But that just made them foggy. Then I dropped my half-full cup!

My parents weren’t too pleased with me as anyone could tell

And then the baby filled the car with a most awful smell!

 

At last we saw the rain had stopped, so quickly we got out.

Mum changed the baby’s nappy. It was then Dad gave a shout.

“Oh no, we’ve run over a nail!” He’d found a tyre was flat.

So we weren’t going anywhere till he had dealt with that.

 

While Dad was working on the wheel, I got my brand new ball.

I kicked it high into a tree, but it refused to fall!

So then I said: “I’ll climb the tree and shake the football down.”

But Mum said: “You’ll do no such thing” and stopped me with a frown.

 

I didn’t want to lose the ball, but what would you have done?

It looked as if I’d have to save to buy another one.

Just then a teenage boy came by. He said: “Leave it to me.”

At once he climbed up to the branch and shook the football free!

 

I tried to catch it as it fell, but Mum caught it instead.

She didn’t catch it in her hands. It landed on her head!

I thought it wasn’t wise to laugh in case she was upset.

She’d told me not to bring the ball. I hoped that she’d forget.

 

When finally Dad changed the tyre, he said: “It’s time to go.

Those heavy clouds are coming back. The journey will be slow.”

I moaned: “An hour here’s not enough. We need some time to play!”

But Mum declared: “Your Dad is right. Let’s come another day.”

 

Although this time our picnic didn’t seem much fun at all,

We did arrive home safely and I still had my new ball.

The baby now is chuckling and we’re by the fire and warm.

It still was an adventure, even with the winter storm.

 Monty Edwards
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #24

Poetry Prompt #24Monty says: Some picnics are memorable for the wrong reasons, but even if not exactly enjoyable they can still supply some interesting and humorous experiences.

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The Visitor

 

A witch flew through my window! I saw her on her broom.

One starry night, down moonbeams bright, she rode into my room!

I cried out to my mother. “A witch came in!” I screamed.

She softly said: “No, no, my dear, believe you me, there’s no witch here.

It’s just something you dreamed.”

 

I wanted to believe her. I’d had a nasty fright.

I said: “Please lock the window, Mum, or I won’t sleep tonight.”

Once Mum had turned the window key she tucked me back in bed.

“No need for you to worry then, no witch can frighten you again,”

My mother calmly said.

 

When Mum had left and dimmed the lights, I tried to close my eyes,

But found I still felt wide awake, though that was no surprise.

Quite suddenly I heard a noise!  A scratching mouse or rat?

Then, while I lay there quiet and still – a dark shape on the window sill!

The witch’s jet black cat!

 

Monty Edwards

 

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #22

Poetry Prompt 22

Monty says: The black cat, moon and starry night turned my thoughts to witches and their significance for children. The open window provided a point of entry for the narrative and the focus then became developing a suitable rhyming scheme to carry the narrative to its conclusion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Rubik Remembered

 

Once a clever man named Rubik

Made a puzzle that was cubic.

Lots of people went to buy it.

Some just couldn’t wait to try it.

 

All six faces, full of colour,

Made the other toys look duller!

Red and yellow, blue and green,

Orange, white, could all be seen.

 

Every face’s shape was square.

Cubes are like that everywhere.

Length and width and height the same:

Like the dice used in a game.

 

Nine small squares on every face

In each large square had a place.

These could twist in groups of threes

To a different face with ease.

 

Here is what you had to do:

Make one face completely blue,

Or perhaps choose green or red,

Orange, yellow, white, instead.

 

Then the rest, till one by one,

Every single colour done!

Few could do it. Most could not.

I was in that second lot.

 

Monty Edwards

Poetryprompt#21

Monty says: The brightly coloured boxes in prompt 21 reminded me of Rubik’s puzzle, but the content is a better fit with “Shapes” from prompt 3. Prompt3