Poem of the Day

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MEET THE HOPPERS

We live up on the hillside,

And our burrows dot the grass,

Where we play and romp and sleep,

And just watch the clouds float past.

 

Although it gets chaotic,

We can still have heaps of fun,
‘cause my family’s really large,
And I love them, every one.

There’s …

Auntie Flo whose strawberry RED,
And Uncle Bob who’s ocean  BLUE,
They’ve two little PURPLE bunnies,
My cousins one and two.

Auntie June is butter YELLOW,
Fire engine RED is Uncle Clive,
Their three little ones are ORANGE,
Cousins three, four and five.

Old Uncle Jock is deep sky BLUE,
Lemon YELLOW is Aunt Devine,
Lime GREEN are my other cousins,
Six, seven, eight and nine.

Dear Uncle George is WHITE as snow,
And BLACK as night is Auntie May,
Cousins ten to fourteen turned out,
Five different shades of GREY.

Then cousin Joy is tree-frog GREEN,
Her partner Pete is ruby RED,
They have six BROWN bouncing bunnies,
All tucked up tight in bed.

My Mum and Dad are both pure WHITE,
And I could never really see,
How I turned out like I did,
With COLOURED spots all over me.

I guess I have a bit of all,
My large family mixed in me,
But I’m happy, it’s who I am,
How I turned out to be.

love SPRINKLES

Sandra Hopf
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #3

poetry-prompt-3

Sandra said: I love writing in a quirky, fun style, but with still a lesson hidden in there. Most of my work tends to be rhyme as I simply can’t help myself!

 

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The Bin Brigade

 

They’re trundled to the roadside in the fading evening light

to form a guard of honour down the street.

In silence they stand waiting through the hours of the night

for Friday morning’s weekly garbage fleet.

 

Identical in stature, proud and rigid in their pose

they solemnly and dutifully wait.

A vast, impressive regiment of straight and perfect rows,

they stand as one, prepared to meet their fate.

 

Together they are ready for the wretchedness in store,

the gross humiliation they all share.

They can’t escape the horror of that ugly metal claw

that sends them flying up into the air.

 

They’re mercilessly tilted till their mouths are opened wide,

then shaken to unstick whatever’s stuck.

Their stomachs start to rumble, then from somewhere deep inside

they vomit all their contents in the truck.

 

Jenny Erlanger

 

{Awarded third prize in the “Adults writing for children” category of the C J Dennis Poetry Competition in 2016.}

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Dogs

 

Some dogs are scary.
You have to be wary.

Some dogs are fat.
They could squash you flat.

Some dogs are tiny
and yappy and whiny.

Some dogs are old
and can’t do what they’re told.

Some dogs are jumpy.
They make me feel grumpy.

Some dogs are fast.
I just watch them run past.

Some dogs are busy
and rush round till they’re dizzy.

But my dog is great.
She’s my very best mate.

Kristin Martin

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Haughty cuisine

 

Our special today is the ostrich mornay

on a bed of wild Spanish weeds,

drizzled with slivers of slow-roasted livers

and garnished with shaved parsley seeds.

 

Served on the side is an elephant hide

in a parcel of puffed pastry wings,

sprinkled with dew from the mists of Peru

and finished with seared apron strings.

 

What’s that you say? You don’t like mornay?

And you’ll pass on the shaved parsley seeds?

Can it be true that you’re not keen on dew?

And you’ve never thought fondly weeds?

 

Do we have WHAT? No, I’m sure we do not

Have a single sausage or chip.

But I suppose we could grill a beef tube from Brazil

served with French strings and ocean-salt dip.

 

Jill McDougall
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #45

poetry-prompt-45

 

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Snack time

I hope Mum’s packed a donut

in my play lunch for today,

I feel like something sugary and sweet.

A piece of carrot cake

would go down well, I have to say,

or chocolate cake, an even better treat!

Or even cubes of tasty cheese

with slices of kabana.

Let’s see what yummy snack my Mum has made…

One crummy little biscuit

and an overripe banana?

Would anybody like to do a trade?

Jenny Erlanger
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #45

 

poetry-prompt-45

Jenny said: Reading the latest “food” prompt poem, “Lunchboxing” reminded me of a poem I wrote several years ago along the same theme. I thought I’d share it with others who remember being disappointed with the offerings put in their lunch box.