Poetry Prompt #40

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This week’s prompt is “Chickens”

A few ideas:

  • Why did the chicken cross the road?
  • Chickens pecking order
  • Feathers flying
  • The love of eggs
  • The noisy rooster
  • Hens brooding

 

Looking forward to your contributions.

Please send to: poemoftheday.jaxton@gmail.com

 

This week’s quote to ponder on:

“With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion”

Edgar Allan Poe

(An American writer 1809-1849)

 

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Poem of the Day

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THE WINDOW MAN

 

He’s washing the windows across the road,

The Window Man in his yellow hat

He bends down low and he rubs the glass

With a sponge the shade of a ginger cat.

 

His hand goes round and round and round,

Then his head comes up to the middle bit

As he rubs away at a grubby patch

And helps it along with a lick of spit.

 

When he grips the sponge the corner points

Like a single ginger-pussy’s ear.

His long rag looks like a pussy’s tail,

But I don’t know what that’s doing here.

 

The sky grows dark, and a thunder clap

That makes me jump, sends him to the porch.

The clouds are so dark I can hardly see –

I wonder, won’t he need a torch?

 

The rain teems down, and the thunder booms.

He leans out to see if the clouds will break

As hail rattles down on his yellow hat –

And he drops his sponge, for goodness sake!

 

Their dog slinks in to avoid the hail

And seizes the sponge, then dodges round,

Growling and chewing. The Man yells, ‘Hoy!’

And it drops it out in the pouring rain.

 

Now the sponge has legs, but it’s lost its tail,

And its head is a funny sort of shape,

But the Window Man leaps off the porch

To grab it  — in case it decides to escape?

 

He squeezes the rain out and growls at the dog,

Who shrinks in the corner, her head on her paws,

While the Window Man drips. He could do with a squeeze!

But he’s got to get on with his windows and doors.

 

He ties up the sponge on the end of a stick

But there isn’t much left of its middle to rub,

For its legs wave about, and the stick scrapes along,

There just isn’t enough of the sponge left to scrub.

 

The top of the door glass is streaky all over.

He’s making it worse – what a silly chump.

Now his polishing rag is chewed up in the corner!

… the dog gives a yelp when the stick hits her rump.

 

As she leaps down the steps and gets lost round the corner

The Window Man’s rump hits the mat with a bump.

His angry roar lost in the roar of the thunder,

He rubs at his forehead. Ouch, what a lump!

 

I cannot imagine whatever he’ll do –

But all my own window’s covered with breath.

This cushion’s foam! So I grab my coat

And run to make up for his sponge’s death …

 

What would you think of a mum who ran

To save her cushion from the Window Man?

Dorothy B Williams

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poem of the Day

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THE PLUGGING OF CHARLIE MCCARTHY

Charlie McCarthy ate lentils and beans

and barbeque onions as well

Folk started running when they saw Charlie coming

’cause he came with a terrible smell.

 

Charlie McCarthy was partial to farting

he farted whenever he walked.

The Mayor of the city said ‘It’s just such a pity

but his butt hole should really be corked.’

 

He called the town doctor, who was a proct-

ologist, told him seal Charlie’s bum,

‘Just fashion a plug that will fit nice and snug,

using rubber and plastic and gum.’

 

The doc corked up Charles, but then came the loud growls,

from deep within Charlie’s behind.

Doc said, quite abrupt ‘If you’re going to erupt,

dear Lord, Charlie boy, please be kind.’

 

Then the doctor, he saw,  Charlie’s puckered back door,

quite suddenly open and close.

It blinked, then it winked, then the sphincter that stinked,

spat the plug out at the doctor’s nose.

 

Well, then came a roar,  like no other before,

as fart after fart filled the room.

Charlie lit a match, and the town was dispatched

with one massive explosion…KA-BOOM!!!

Allan Cropper

Poem of the Day

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Silvery Riddle

I will give you a smile if you care to look up

but I won’t show my face on a dark, dark night.

 

I will rule over oceans as though they are slaves

but I won’t ever say if that’s wrong or right.

 

I will make a lake’s surface a silvery spread

but I won’t share my shine when the day is bright.

 

I will block out the Sun every once-in-a-while.

My Solar Eclipse is an awesome sight!

Celia Berrell

 

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #36

Celia said: There was a Total Solar Eclipse over part of the USA recently.  Our Moon is 400 times smaller, yet 400 times closer than the Sun.  This precise difference makes them appear the same size from Earth.  When they line up perfectly, it can take our breath away!  Imagine what a riddle this event must have posed to people centuries ago, before we really understood the movements of the stars, planets and our silvery Moon.

Poem of the Day

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Wish List

I wish I were a dinosaur that lived amongst the plants.

I wish I were as tiny as those microscopic ants.

I wish I were a blossom tree – a pretty sight of pink.

I wish I were a roller blade that skated round a rink.

I wish I were a raindrop falling from a stormy cloud.

I wish I were an eagle soaring high above a crowd.

I wish I were a spider – having eight legs would be neat.

I wish I were a centipede – with all those extra feet.

I wish I were a peacock with majestic, fan-like tail.

I wish I were a postage stamp, secure on someone’s mail.

I wish that wishing wishes makes that wish come true for me,

as all my wishes are exciting things I’d like to be.

Caroline Tuohey
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #35

Poem of the Day

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I wish

I wish I’d see a world at peace

With harmony, not strife and war;

Where we care for one another,

And nobody is sad and poor.

 

I wish my school would safer be,

No playground bullies anymore;

If we forgave each other’s faults

How happy we’d all be, I’m sure.

 

I wish I’d see our oceans clean,

Without pollution’s ugly blight.

I wish the whales would live and thrive,

I wish for coral colours bright.

 

I wish, I wish, for happiness

For everyone — especially you.

If you wish with me, fingers crossed,

We might just see our wish come true.

 

James Aitchison   
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #35
   

Poem of the Day

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60 seconds

A lot can happen in 60 seconds and even more in a minute.

You can floss your teeth

and tie your shoes

or blink 12 times within it!

A hummingbird flaps 4,000 times,

there are 59 weddings

and 3 parking fines

(in Melbourne).

300 lightning strikes hit Earth.

250 mothers give birth.

5 earthquakes rattle the world someplace,

but have you ever wondered what happens in space?

 

For every minute of every day

there’s a cosmic supernova display.

Fireworks on the grandest scale,

a blinding, flashing starburst wail,

as 60 stars begin to implode

their cores superheating until they explode.

Imagine?

 

Who’d have thought there was that much power?

Makes me wonder what happens each hour.

Alys Jackson