“Free as a Ladybird” by Sioban Timmer

Leave a comment

Free As a Ladybird

 

Ladybird ladybird fly to your tree

The children are screaming and coming to see

They have a big jar and a challenge to get

A most lovely bug they can keep as a pet

 

Ladybird ladybird fly away free

Take to the wind and race with the bee

For you are too quick and too nimble and wild

To be trapped and contained by a curious child

 

Ladybird ladybird fly to your den

The children have gone and you’re safe once again

The garden is quiet just you and the gnomes

Now the children have all raced away to their homes.

“Thongs and Boardies” by Sioban Timmer

2 Comments

 

Thongs and Boardies

Songs of yore, can be a bore

When they speak of snow and Holly.

Songs of sun are much more fun

To make our Christmas jolly.

We don’t ride sleighs – we catch some rays

As temperatures are soaring.

Hams to slice and prawns on ice

The feast is never boring.

Thongs on feet are not complete

Without our favourite boardies.

And by the pool, we’re staying cool

As Christmas hits the forties.

We don’t admire yuletide fire

Where chestnuts sit to roast.

We find fun with water guns,

Watch the sunset by the coast.

Raise a cup, with head held up

And toast the winter failure.

Sunshine above, what’s not love

That’s Christmas in Australia.

 

Poem of the Day

Leave a comment

 

The Magic Elephant

 

The Bradbury Brothers Big Top

Travelled round from town to town

With all the big attractions

Tigers, tightropes and a clown

 

To keep the patrons interested

They had to keep it new

So they brought a snake and elephant

And bearded lady too

 

But the Strongman pulled a hammie

(He exerted too much force)

And the showgirl broke her leg

When falling from her dancing horse

 

The Bradbury Brothers panicked

The tent was full of angry hicks

They would have to get the elephant

To do some magic tricks

 

Card tricks are elementary

And quite easy to debunk

This trick must be amazing

(And completed with a trunk!)

 

They set up eight big ostrich eggs

With care upon the mat

And gave the giant pachyderm

A wizard wand and hat

 

Then to the crowd’s great wonder

Each egg just sank away

Though it was not a magic elephant

(but a starving snake that day)

 

The only proof of what occurred

For the trick had gone so well

Was a smiling snake contented

Burping out the old egg shells.

Sioban Timmer
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #26

Poem of the Day

1 Comment

Sunday Dinner

My Nan grew up in wartime

And thought nothing goes to waste

And sometimes Sunday dinner

Wasn’t really to my taste

 

I loved to go to her house

And most of the meals were great

But at times I really struggled

To eat the food upon my plate

 

Her Shepherd’s Pie was awesome

And I loved cold meats and cheese

She made Special Fried Potatoes

That always made me say “More please”

 

But every now and then

The dish that truly gave me shivers

I couldn’t even stand the smell

Of Nan’s boiled chicken livers

 

I pushed them all around the plate

And covered them with sauce

Tried to mix them with potatoes

But it didn’t help of course

 

In the end I had to say

There really was one choice

And though I knew it would be hard

I mustered up my voice

 

“Nan – I don’t like boiled chicken livers”

 

There was a moment’s silence

And my eyes were opened wide

Nan looked at me and gently smiled

“Just push them to the side”

 

After that no chicken livers

Were served at Sunday dinner

And we had all the other lovely things

My tastebuds were the winner

Sioban Timmer
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #20

Poem of the Day

8 Comments

Yellow Letters

 

When my grandad passed away

We found beneath the floor

A beat up, sturdy wooden box

We’d never seen before

 

The reason that we found it

Was a floor board out of place

It was sticking out and I tripped up

And landed on my face

 

I could tell it was important

And I removed it with great care

Grandad loved us all so much

What would he hide down there?

 

Mum looked surprised as I was

As she opened up the lid

Slowly then, her tears rolled down

As she found out what he hid

 

Her face had turned from flush to pale

As though she’d seen a ghost

So many yellowed envelopes

He never meant to post.

 

Mum said that Grandad never wrote

While serving in the war

And all these papers sitting here

She’d never seen before

 

We sat and read together

Sharing tears and love as well

My grandad never wrote of war

As it was nothing short of hell

 

He couldn’t say the words out loud

But these letters had ensured

That maybe one day later

We would know what he’d endured

 

We placed them back into the box

And closed the lid up tight

I felt my grandad was at peace

When I fell asleep that night

 

For though he never posted them

Those letters got him through

For the final one said ‘War is done!

I’m coming home to you’

Sioban Timmer
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #12

Sioban said: I just recently received copies of my Grandad’s war medals and have a special box to place them in, I think that put the idea to the front of my mind.