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THINGS THAT GO POP

by Allan Cropper

 

Balloons make the loudest pop

They pop so loud that people stop

POP!

 

Bubbles make the softest pop

Hardly worth the trouble

pop!

 

But bubble wrap is clearly tops

When it comes to making pops

It goes on like it never stops

pop pop pop pop pop pop pop

pop pop pop pop pop pop pop!

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The Penguisaur

by Stephen Whiteside 

 

The penguisaur lived long ago, but only way down south.

It had long rows of ugly teeth arranged within its mouth.

It lived in crowds upon the ice, and swam for food each day,

And when it dived it threw behind a mighty spume of spray.

 

It waddled when it walked because its legs were short and stumpy.

It looked quite cute, but don’t be fooled. Its mood was often grumpy.

It liked to feed on killer whales, and humpback whales as well,

And wayward tortoises, because they have a crunchy shell.

 

It specially liked to guzzle blood that flowed from meat fresh killed,

And grew extremely angry if too much of it was spilled.

It opened wide its vicious teeth, and gave a mighty roar,

While blood formed clots upon the feathers of the penguisaur

 

Its snowy chest was fast defaced by blood and gore and guts.

Mark my word – it was a fearsome beast, no ifs or buts.

When chewing gobs of whale, a crazed look came into its eye.

Its feathers were ten metres long, yet still it couldn’t fly.

 

Half of it was dinosaur, and half was flightless bird,

But of it, in the text books, you will never read a word.

That’s because its fossiled forms are trapped beneath the ice,

And searching for such evidence is never very nice.

 

Maybe somewhere out among the broad Antarctic chill,

A penguisaur, snap frozen and intact, is lying still.

Perhaps one day a scientist will thaw its body out,

And it will grab him in its jaw, and shake him inside out!

 

 ©   Stephen Whiteside  

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Nora

 By Anna Jacobson

I found her at school one day, hidden

under one of the classrooms. I climbed

in after her and she let me stroke

her fur. I carried her into the light

and her shadow stretched

across the grass.

 

Her owners were relieved.

She’d been missing three weeks.

They came to pick her up

and as I let her go, I imagined a cat

of my own. A cat called Nora.

 

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Lost

by Jenny Erlanger

 

The water beneath us is surging,

the thunder’s creating a din.

and swiftly a sense is emerging

of just what a pickle I’m in.

All hope of a rescue is shrinking,

I’m such a long way from the shore.

I’m trapped on a ship that is sinking

and teeming with pirates galore,

with villains who thirst for a killing,

who’d slice you apart with a hook.

I’m finding this ever so thrilling!

I love getting lost in a book.

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Birthday Eve

by Nadine Cranenburgh

 

My presents are boxed up all brightly

I’m not sleepy, not even slightly

When I hear my dad snore

I’ll unwrap three or four

Then wrap them back up again tightly

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Waiting…

By Angelique  Brandt (14)

Waiting is the hardest part
Wondering if it’s going to start
Wondering what will be
Wondering if he will be there for me
Sleepless nights
Have to hold on tight
Don’t know what is going to happen
Hope it will be alright
The road to the hospital is long
But you have to stay strong
Seeing him lying there
Everything seems bare
Then everything is okay
And I can breathe again
And the weight is off my shoulders
And the sun is shining again
And he is there for me
Like he said he would be.

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BING BANG WALLOPY BOOM

by Allan Cropper

 

Bing bang wallopy boom

The marching band came in my room

Round and round and round my bed

Pounding pounding in my head

Bing bang wallopy boom

The marching band marched out my room

I never heard another peep

I closed my eyes and fell asleep

 

Hot, Salty, Crunchy by N McMullin

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Hey you!

Stop staring at me like that!

Yeah, you!

I don’t like the way

You’re looking at me…

With your beady little eyes

And that sad cry of yours.

It doesn’t fool me,

Not one little bit.

Hey! Don’t you come any closer!

No way, pal, you’re just

Asking for trouble.

C’mon, quit your begging.

I know your type.

I’ll give you one,

And then all of your

Mates show up,

Demanding more…

Ah, no, cut with the crying.

Okay, then, maybe just one little…

Hot, salty, crunchy chip.

Aghhhhhh!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Brisbane West End Markets

by Anna Jacobson

 

Under a canopy of fig trees

we pass a busker, watch his hands dance

over the surface of the drum and hear

music— soft, warm, bright.

Honey sounds that take us past the

food stalls and hot Afghani bread filled

with leeks and onion. I follow behind a girl

who carries a white Persian cat. Its pampered

face peers over her shoulder at me.

 

Fred: A Fearful Fate by Prudence Marsh

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Fred: A Fearful Fate

The Terrible Tale of Lazy Fred who Starved to Death.
From Aesop’s Fable: The Grasshopper and the Ants.

Grasshopper Fred.

Dark green

Stripes of yellow

Could be seen.

Fred loved to

Hop!

Hop!

Hop!

In the warm summer sun!

Hopping!

Hopping!

Hopping!

Just so much fun!

 

Ants!

Ants!

Ants!

Small, busy and black.

Never the ones to slack!

Work!

Work!

Work!

Never the ones to shirk!

 

Fred said:

Why do you work all day?

I would rather play!

The Ants gave their reply:

We work in the summer heat.

We gather food to eat.

We store our winter Supply.

Without food we will die!

 

Winter came with frost and snow.

Where will poor Fred go?

The ants have locked their door!

Food?

Food?

Food?

No food anymore!

 

Poor Fred!

Stone dead!

 

What a marvelous treat!

Sausage rolls.

With grasshopper meat!

 

Providence U3A: March 16th 2015
Prudence Marsh is the nom-de-plume of the U3A DIY Poetry Group