Poem of the Day

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My Favourite Toy


I love my orange scooter

I love my green doll

I love my purple robot

And my toy remote control.


I love my yellow digger

I love my red ball

I love my blue bucket

But my favourite toy of all,


Is my rainbow dancing ribbon

All its colours in a row

The way it flutters in the breeze

I twirl it fast and slow.


And when it’s finally time for bed

I hang it on my wall

Because, of all my toys it is

The one that’s best of all.


By Lynelle Kendall


  • Inspired by Poetry Prompt #3

Poem of the Day


There’s a Rainbow in my Pocket


Inside the pocket of my shorts it’s dark and not too clean,

But you might just decipher the colours red and green.

There’s a length of string that’s red or faded nearly pink

A piece of a tangelo skin that’s sweeter than you think

A dandelion head there is, that’s rather sad and squashed

A blade of grass that’s all green now but changes when it’s washed

A toffee wrapper, blue as blue, that’s sticky-d up the dark

As well a stone of purplish-grey I found when in the park.


Rainbow colours but oh no, not the rainbow with its glow

Far too dirty, far too dank, it all needs cleaning to be frank.


Hard edges, cooling to the touch. I take it out and rub it clean

Angled just right toward the sun, its transparency is seen

In coloured bands breaks up the light,

and then stream through the colours bright

A wondrous pleasure to bestow

the prism bears its own rainbow

Virginia Lowe
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #3






Poem of the Day


Rainbow’s End

A snail once heard the story

Which is very often told:

“If you reach a rainbow’s ending,

You will find a pot of gold!”

This idea was most appealing,

(Since the snail was very poor)

And it left him with a feeling

That he couldn’t quite ignore.


Every day when it was raining,

But the clouds began to clear,

He would scan the sky for rainbows

In the hope one would appear.

Then at last he thought he saw one

In the garden hothouse glass!

To the spot he slowly hurried

Streaking silver through the grass.


But oh, what disappointment,

When he reached that special place!

For of golden coins or treasure,

He discovered not a trace.

As he turned to leave, discouraged,

Something caught his tearful eye

And a potted gold chrysanthemum

Proved the story was no lie.


 Monty Edwards



  •  Poetryprompt20Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #20

Monty says: My thoughts went from the prompt’s golden flower, to a flower pot to hold it and so to the pot of gold. This gave me the rainbow, which with the snail in the picture, provided the story line.



Poem of the Day

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The Rainbow Fairies

By Bridh Hancock


As I thought that I should die from

Eating what ain’t food for me,

I thought I saw, out through the window,

A rainbow there for me to see.


Now, rainbows bless, with mystic colours,

Evening skies quite magically;

Arching all the way up and over

From here to there — where that may be.


But this was quite another rainbow

Beckoning me to come outside.

How it sparkled in sequined splendor!

I saw Fairies down it slide.


Then they flew up, vanishing skyward —

This as only Fairies might. —

Oh, such beauty! — razzling! dazzling! —

Extra-squisite! What a sight!


The rainbow plonked down in our garden,

Out the back and down the yard,

Awesoming the veggie-patch

Of radish, cabbage (Yuck!) and chard.


I, alone in all the world,

Stopped to stare where, in the mud,

This singularly special, riveting rainbow

Quite transformed our humble spud.


Fairies in twenty different colours

There did spin and dance and sing,

And, having caught my startled attention,

Pointed with finger, toe, and wing


To where grew artichokes, Brussels sprouts,

Caulis and (Blagh! No-thanks!) Broad beans,

Then shouted with the voice of parents,

“Do as you’re told and eat your greens!

Yes, all your veggies and greens!”