Tag Archives: rhyming poems

Homeless by Toni Newell

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Blue skies are my ceiling
Sometimes they are grey
My life is on the edge
Dependent on the day.

Wind can be my enemy
When it’s icy cold
But if it’s from the north
Its warmth is to behold.

Living in the elements
Challenges every day
And relying on charity
Is a heavy price to pay.

Income is a problem
And rent I do not pay
I have no walls around me
No permanent place to stay.

I don’t have a job
Some think that I am lazy
But I have no fixed address
Bureaucracy is crazy.

We’re not all dealt a fair hand
When it comes to life
Some get it very easy
And others only strife.

I didn’t choose my destiny
I had very little say
I reacted to the punches
That life cast out my way.

So, when you see me on the street
Know that I am human too
I may not have a home address
But I have a heart and soul like you.

Image by Myriams-Fotos from Pixabay

I Spy A Funny Sky by James Aitchison

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I bent my head

so far back,

I heard it make

a funny crack.

What a sight,

my neck is sore,

still can’t believe

the sky I saw. 

It was awesome,

all because

the sky was full 

of tomato sauce!

Visiting My Sister by Toni Newell

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I’ve not seen my sister

Since she moved away

Out into the countryside

With acres there to play.

Even when she teased me

I loved her being there

We had fun together

What we had we’d share.

She’s more than my big sister

She is a friend to me

So, I’m going to visit her

Up there in the country.

Photo by Pixabay

Werewolf Woes by Matthew Hartley

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I always become a werewolf

when the moon begins to rise.

My clothes get ripped and torn

and then I double up in size.

Although I’ve got no clothes on

after I transform,

it’s really not a worry

as my fur will keep me warm.

When I’m a scary werewolf

out and on the prowl,

for awhile I’m happy,

you should hear me howl.

I really like to run around

searching for my prey.

When I find a tasty meal

they never get away.

But when I’m back to normal

it’s really not much fun.

I have to get back home again

by doing a nudie run.

The Boomerang Returns by Jeanie Axton

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Throw the boomerang high in the sky

watch the ancient hunting tool fly

throw it straight and throw it long

up above this tool belongs

Try a lob and give it a boost

see it returning come home to roost

keep on flinging it into the sky

practice makes perfect

Give it a try

Image by Spencer Wing from Pixabay

Dream Big by Elizabeth Myers

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I’m watching the Olympic Games, they come to us from France
A huge range there of sports for all-there’s even the break dance.
I wish that I could be there, and I think that I will aim
For Brisbane 2032-I’ll be there I proclaim!


My favourite sport is swimming-I had better start to learn
I have a lot of work to do for accolades I yearn
I’ll need to get up early and to swim a lot of laps
And hope with all my work I’m not so tired I collapse


Perhaps I need a coach on board, Dean Boxhall seems the best
He’ll work on my nutrition, making sure I get some rest
He ‘ll show me how to do the strokes, the freestyle and the back
And teach me how to do it well and highlight where I lack.


But still, there’s more to practice and a wealth of things to learn
Like diving in and breathing right and even how to turn
The good thing is there’s still 8 years to make sure I am ready
With hard work and determination, progress slow but steady


I see myself as Ariane or even Molly O.
Or Kaylee M or Emma Mac, all medalists, you know.
My dream is clear and focused, to aim high like the sun
No matter the result, if I can do my best I’ve won


I step up on the podium and gaze into the crowd
The spectators of Aussies and my family are so proud
Australian flag is risen, and the anthem starts to play
My medal gold around my neck, I’m champion today.

Red Raincoat Rap by Sharon Hammad

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I’m a smart and stylish raincoat

Ruby red with stripes inside.

I’ve many secret pockets where

Your precious things can hide.

I’ve lots of zippers, long and short,

And studs that pop and click.

My velcro makes you tug-of-war,

So strongly does it stick.

My hood fits snugly round your face–

Just pull the drawstring please.

You won’t get cold if you pick me:

I block the stiffest breeze.

Oh no, don’t bother with the blue,

Its colour is quite pale.

And do you think those buttons

Would withstand a howling gale?

Besides the fun you’ll have with me,

I’ll keep you warm and dry.

You’ll have to search the UNIVERSE

To find a better buy.

Oh well, it seems it’s not my day.

Your mum is hardly keen.

She says blue coat might be the nicest

One she’s ever seen.

Then, suddenly, you shake your head

Insisting I’m for you,

And soon we’re heading out the door…

You, me and blue coat too!

Photo by Vecteezy

Go, Glacier, Go! by James Aitchison

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A gloomy glazier

went up a glacier

to have a look at the snow.

Without any haze

he could cast his gaze

over the icy flow.

Then down the mountain

like a freezing fountain

the ice began to travel.

Down they came,

glazier and glacier —

a mess you couldn’t unravel.

Photo by Pixabay

Handfuls of Happiness by Pauline Cleary

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There is no magic rainbow, no pot of gold,
no endless pleasure, in spite of what we’re told
but there’s actually something better, manageable and right.
There are handfuls of happiness, pockets of delight.
There is:
the glimpse of a blue wren hopping through the trees;
a snatch of sweet music caught on the breeze;
the smile of a neighbour; the wave of a friend;
the book that you’re reading you don’t want to end.
There is:
the person in the supermarket who lets you go ahead
in the longest queue ever and you’ve only got bread;
running into friends you haven’t seen in a while
an ice-cream in a café, a laugh and a smile.
There is:
the mist on the river on a cold winter’s day
the man who says good morning as you both go on your way
the old friend who calls; the new friend you meet
the bustle of people moving up the street.
There is:
the gaze of your dog, eyes soft and brown
the first forget-me-not peeking through the ground;
the start of a holiday, a walk on the sand;
the breeze in your face, the touch of a hand.

There are handfuls of happiness, times that just feel right
and we welcome every moment, those pockets of delight.

Photo from Pexels by Javon Swaby

Sharpen Up Mr Squiggle by Jeanie Axton

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After 60 years of drawing

his nose was all but blunt

So our famous Mr Squiggle

went on a sharpener hunt

He took his rocket to the moon

with Blackboard and Miss Jane

They found a big red sharpener

and his pencils sharp again

Moon Photo by Pixabay