More Poems for World Poetry Day!
This poem was written after a comment I heard from a child that colourful books are the best and it prompted me to write this poem
PICK ME PLEASE
I’m sitting lonely on a shelf,
The others have been taken.
Nobody picked me again,
My confidence is shaken.
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I know I look a little dull
No pictures to entice,
But someone tore my cover off,
Now I don’t look quite as nice.
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I seem a very dull brown book
And nobody chooses me.
But my story is still the same inside
Open me up – you’ll see!
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My story is full of laughter,
Please take me down and look.
My pages need some turning.
I’m not a well-thumbed book.
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Pick me, pick me, oh please pick me
When story-time comes around.
Don’t judge me by my cover,
It’s just the way I’m bound.
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This poem was first published in Paperbound Magazine and came from the theme: MAGIC
GRANDAD’S MAGIC
My Grandad used to say
Whenever I made him a cup of tea,
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Ay, lass, that’s magic that is,
Pure magic. You see,
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Magic doesn’t have to mean
Wizards and spells,
___
There’s magic in the best of things
Like memories and smells.
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Remembering my Grandad
And those special things he said
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I thought about all the magic things
I carry in my head.
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The scent of my mum
Like flowers in bloom.
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Watching snow falling
From the window of my room.
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The smile from my teacher
When I read out my story.
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Winning a race
And my moment of glory.
___
My little brothers joy
When he learned to ride his bike.
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Tromping through the woods
On a sunny summer hike.
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Picnics by the river,
Swimming in the sea.
___
All those special things, like Grandad,
Are magic to me.
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This next poem is called a NONET POEM. Nine descending lines from nine syllables in the first line to one in the last
LAUGHTER IS
Laughter is light as a summer cloud
As crazy as a wind-blown day
A warm hug for a black mood
Delicious as chocolate
Happy hyenas
Playing charades
White rabbits
Sunshine
Love
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The last poem is all about the problems my poems sometimes cause!!
MY POEMS
SOMETIMES
My poems grow
Like the clappers.
Dance like flappers.
And I can’t find
A beginning or an end.
___
SOMETIMES
My poems sail
A wide word ocean
Carrying a notion
A big commotion
Of dreams and ideas.
___
SOMETIMES
My poems talk
Amongst themselves.
They chatter, they natter.
And I have to listen
In to catch their drift.
___
SOMETIMES
My poems can’t settle.
They dither,
They wither.
Then they’re
Bin talk.
___
BUT SOMETIMES
My poems
Sing wonderful things.
Grow wings
And I let them fly
Across the page.
HAPPY WORLD POETRY DAY!!