Tag Archives: rhyming poems

Give the Birds a Rap by Erica Chester

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A group of eagles is a convocation

And a group of starlings, a murmuration

Ibises cheer in a congregation 

Then bin dive with great elation

Kingfishers live in concentration

Whilst peacocks strut in an ostentation

Larks fly and sing in exaltation

An emu from the mob represents our nation 

Kookaburras laugh in a raucous riot

Pods of pelicans glide in the quiet

A siege of herons (on a strict fish diet)

Duck and dive and bathe in private

Seagulls bicker in a squawking squabble

A gaggle of gregarious turkeys like to gobble 

Sparrows gather in what’s called a quarrel

A waddle of penguins can sometimes wobble

A tiding of magpies warbles all the time

Tiny little fairywrens make a chime

A murder of crows isn’t always a crime

A ballet of swans: graceful in their prime

Give the Birds a Rap by Erica Chester

Image from Pixabay

I love libraries by James Aitchison

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I’ve got stacks of reading to do,

I don’t know where to begin!

Some of the books are big,

And some are very thin.

Will I start on the bottom shelf,

And read my way to the top?

Or start reading down to the ground

Until I have to stop?

Or maybe I’ll read side to side,

Right to left or left to right,

Whatever it is, I know I’ll be reading

Long into the night!

I love libraries by James Aitchison

Image by Pixabay

Love Our Library by Pauline Cleary

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Come on down to the library.
It’s sure to be lots of fun.
The staff are, oh so friendly
and there is something for everyone.

There are books to read, magazines to browse,
audio, ebooks too;
computers, ipads and movies;
jigsaws to swap and do.

Toddlers join in rhyme-time.
Adults play cards and chat.
There’s a book discussion group up the front.
It’s tech time down the back.

The chess group are silent and focused.
The craft people share ideas.
In the meeting room, the history group
pores newspapers from past years.

The seed library opens Saturdays;
English conversation group, the same day;
after- school club on Tuesdays –
with lego and games to play.

Come on down to the library,
It’s sure to be lots of fun.
There’s always so much happening
and a welcome for everyone.

Image from Pixabay

Stop Work by Jenny Erlanger

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Our microwave’s groaning,
the dishwasher’s moaning,
the fridge has developed a whir.
Our blender’s not blending,
it’s only pretending.
The food’s barely given a stir.

Our dryer’s stopped drying.
it’s not even trying
but that’s not what irks me the most.
The toaster I’m using
has started refusing
to pop up my pieces of toast.

I’m sensing defiance
from every appliance.
It must be their chores they dislike.
I’m wondering whether
they’ve plotted together
to stage this ridiculous strike?

Stop Work by Jenny Erlanger

Image from Pixabay

Getting Sorted by James Aitchison

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One day I opened my wardrobe

and all the junk fell out!

Ten pairs of filthy shoes 

and a half-eaten Brussels sprout.

There were socks that smelled really gross,

some old underpants and a book,

and in a plastic lunchbox,

I found the remains of a chook.

A football my dog had chewed,

a tube of cream for my zits,

a few dead flies and a lizard,

and a shirt that no longer fits.

Such a disgusting mess —

I didn’t know what to say.

Back into the wardrobe it went,

To be sorted another day!

Image from Pixabay

Bobby the Bilby by Linda Davidson

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Bobby the Bilby is cute as can be.
He’s very shy and hides from me.
With long ears and a pointy nose
He builds his burrow with clawed toes.

I want to pat his soft grey fur.
Down a burrow he dashes in a blur.
Should I wait in the pale moonlight,
or come back again tomorrow night?

TIME TO GROW by Sharon Davson

BUTTERFLY MOTHER by Dianne Bates

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Dancing the tune of the breeze
She lifts her coat sleeves –
And freezes as if in prayer
To breed in the shady leaves;
Green confetti in air.

On the rib-case underneath –
A waxy seam of leaf,
Tiny eggs, colour of cream
Are stuck with butterfly paste.
Blue lady lifts as a dream,
Leaving them, to hatch or waste.

Who knows where she goes
Blue butterfly mother?

Image by Pexels

Kite Day by Jeanette Swan

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The whoosh of the wind has lifted its sail.

It flips and flaps and flicks its tail.

My kit-packet kite is pecking the sky,

jigging and jagging, higher and higher!

Soaring in circles – a marvellous thing!

I am the keeper.

I hold the string.

Oops, it’s  in a tree…

Image from Pixabay

Lost Kite by Celia Berrell

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I’ve got a kite
whose tail’s quite white.
It’s strong and light
in colours bright.

With wind just right
my kite gains height.
The string’s pulled tight.
My kite’s in flight!

But my delight
soon turns to plight
when wind-gusts bite
with forceful spite
and push my kite
with such great might
the string can’t fight
and snaps in fright.

My falling kite’s
no more in flight
and lost to sight
as day turns night.

Image by Pixabay

Who wants to live here? by James Aitchison

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Now that’s what I call a house,
with lots of space for everyone.
Lots of stairs to run up and down,
and a room on the roof just for fun.
I could play my music really loud —
Mum and Dad wouldn’t hear it at all.
My siblings would be out of my way,
at the other end of a long, long hall.
But when it’s time for dinner,
there’s a problem I can see:
by the time I went down all that way
there’d be nothing left for me!

English stately home. Photo by Ginette Pestana