Nice Day

After I'd trudged

For twenty minutes

Back to the shop

Carrying three bulky bags

Through a heavy downpour

That infiltrated my underwear

To return the new 'pair' of shoes

(One size 9, one size 10!)

To the nameless Service Assistant

Who was otherwise engaged

In gossip to a colleague

Therefore failing to make eye-contact with me

Or provide any kind of apology

As he silently replaced the footwear

While presumptuously asking me to complete

“Our short customer satisfaction survey”


You'll understand why

I tore it up in front of him

Sarcastically repeating

The well-worn corporate mantra

That he'd just robotically recited to me

“Have a Nice Day”

Dad's Hairy Chest

When I am a man

When I'm fully grown

There's something of Dad's

I'd rather not own

It pokes out his shirt

It sticks out his vest

I don't want to inherit

My Dad's hairy chest


Parts of it are grey

Parts of it are black

It's spread to his sides

And over his back

What's my deepest fear?

What's getting me stressed?

I don't want to inherit

My Dad's hairy chest


He looks like a wolf

Gorilla or goat

With fur thick enough

To knit a warm coat

As adulthood nears

I'll make this request

I don't want to inherit

My Dad's hairy chest


It's creepy to touch

It's woolly and weird

If stuck to his chin

It could be a beard

The piece of my Pa

Where birds choose to nest

I don't want to inherit

My Dad's hairy chest


He gives it a shave

He gives it a trim

It's blow-dried and brushed

Straight after a swim

Though Mum thinks it's cool

I say smooth is best

I don't want to inherit

My Dad's hairy chest

Ten Ways to NOT Treat a Book

1. Don’t write, draw or scribble on it (unless it’s an exercise book, colouring book or similar).

2. Don’t drop or throw it off a tall building, cliff or mountain.

3. Don’t let your baby brother or sister handle it with their icky, sticky jam-covered fingers.

4. And, if they do, don’t try to clean it in the washing machine.

5. Don’t go on long journeys or holidays without it

6. Don’t put it down near a hunger-crazed dog, gorilla, hippo, crocodile, shark, lion, wildebeest etc.

7. Don’t bend the corners of the pages (for goodness sake, use a bookmark!).

8. Don’t take it into the shower, bath, swimming pool or deep-sea diving.

9. Don’t keep it a secret - tell the world how brilliant it is.

10. And, most importantly, don’t, don’t, don’t EVER leave it on the shelf, unread


Lunch Break!

I don’t want to study Saxons in history

Create copper oxide in chemistry

When attempting maths I can’t keep awake

So my favourite lesson is…

LUNCH BREAK!


I’m bored with beady-eyed bugs in biology

Examining rocks in geology

P.E. is hard work - far too much to take

So my favourite lesson is…

LUNCH BREAK!


I’ve never made any sense of geography

Speaking French remains a huge mystery

My physics exam was one big mistake

So my favourite lesson is…

LUNCH BREAK!


I’m fed up with writing poems in literacy

Signing songs in music is not for me

I prefer chicken, chips and chocolate cake

So my favourite lesson is…

LUNCH BREAK!

LUNCH BREAK!

LUNCH BREAK!*


(*Meet you in the dinner hall at 12.15)

Marathon Man

He’s a man with a purpose

He’s a man with a plan

He’s a man on a mission

He’s a marathon man


Flying fast out the blocks

Number one on his vest

Proudly leading the pack

Hopes for personal best

Watch him run down your road

Watch him sprint down your street

With his super-strong legs

Joined to super-strong feet


He’s a man with a purpose

He’s a man with a plan

He’s a man on a mission

He’s a marathon man


Trains so hard at the gym

An obsessive speed freak

Brags ‘I could beat the Flash

‘Any day of the week!’

Fully frozen in snow

Scorched and sizzled in sun

To us - our worst nightmare

To him - fabulous fun


He’s a man with a purpose

He’s a man with a plan

He’s a man on a mission

He’s a marathon man


Ever up to the task

Of each challenging race

‘Thump, thump, thump’ pounds his heart

As he quickens the pace

Fully focused, flat out

Past the finishing line

Gains a medal of gold

In a world record time


He’s a man with a purpose

He’s a man with a plan

He’s a man on a mission

He’s a marathon man


He’s a marathon man

He’s a marathon man

HE’S A MARATHON MAN!

Please Can We Have Our Ball Back?

It muddied your washing

Bypassing the back door

Flew fast as a rocket

Spread dirt on your new floor


I'm bending on one knee

And begging 'forgive me'

But...

Please can we have our ball back?


It plopped in your fishpond

Broke your kitchen window

Pushed over the pot plant

Thus bruising your big toe


We're sorry we're uncool

So hopeless at football

But...

Please can we have our ball back?


It bounced on your cat's head

The lawn you were mowing

The patio table

The sunflowers you're growing


Your anger is rising

Which isn't surprising

But...

Please can we have our ball back?


It created chaos

Spilt your cup of coffee

Then carried on upwards

Got stuck in your oak tree


Now be a good neighbour

This is a huge favour

But...

Please can we have our ball back?

the giANT

Inside the ANThill

ANT 1 was the most importANT

ANT 2 was a reliANT assistANT

ANT 3 was absolutely brilliANT

ANT 4 was perfectly pleasANT

ANT 5 was oh so elegANT

ANT 6 was rather arrogANT

ANT 7 was frequently...er...um...hesitANT

ANT 8 was incredibly observANT

ANT 9 was extremely tolerANT

ANT 10 always wore deodorANT


one day a new ANT enquired

'can I come to live in your ANThill?'


the other ANTs yelled

'no you cAN'T!'

they were adamANT


why?

cos he was an elephANT!'

Dear Doctor

When I was much younger Mum took me to the doctor

'How can I help?' She asked

I explained:

'Metaphors constantly fall from my mouth

'I crave similes like a child craves chocolate

'I'm addicted to applying amazing alliteration

'And astounding, astonishing adjectives

'Some of the time

'I just have to rhyme

'My brain frequently explodes with onomatopoeia...

BOOM!!! BANG!!!

'I consistently and enthusiastically use adverbs

'I understand, realise, recognise, appreciate, am aware of the importance of synonyms

'My friend, Personification, suggested I visited you for a cure'


So the doctor wrote me a prescription

'One pencil, one note pad'

Then advised me

'Try writing poetry and you'll soon be well'


So I did

The Reason I Love Raisins

What's the reason I love raisins?

Well the reason is they're cool

Like sultanas (not bananas)

Tiny, tasty, squidgy balls


Squashed up tightly in their boxes

Perfect pick from any bunch

Yes I'm really rating raisins

Ripe and ready for my lunch


Raisins, raisins are amazing

Though they're merely shrivelled grapes

Bring the best out of your biscuits

Brilliant if you're baking cakes


I love rapping about raisins

Wrote this rhythmic raisin rhyme

Got a recipe to roast them

With fresh rosemary and thyme


A liaison with a raisin's

Not a thing to ridicule

Because I was raised on raisins

So I reason: RAISINS RULE!

I've Lost My Mojo

I've lost my mojo – where'd it go?

A tragedy! A bitter blow!

It vanished, vamoosed in thin air

If only I had bought a spare

I'm unable to be my best

Despondent and a tad depressed


I've lost my mojo – sad but true

It's oval-shaped, electric blue

Bright, bouncy, silky, soft and smooth

Without it I can't find my groove

The dodo died out - it's extinct

My mojo could be too I think


I've lost my mojo – O.M.G.!

I need it now A.S.A.P.

All inspiration has run dry

Can't raise a smile although I try

My batteries are truly flat

From plus to minus just like that


I've lost my mojo – in a flash!

My sunny sky fell with a CRASH!

My brain is frazzled in a fuzz

So like a bee that has no buzz

Friends say 'You lack zap, zest and zeal

'We hope your mojo comes back...Neal!'

Choosing a Library Book

At the library I couldn't find a book to read


The mountaineering books were out of reach on the very top shelf

The true crime books had been stolen

The Great Fire of London books were just a pile of ashes

The medical books were unwell and in hospital


Aliens had teleported the science fiction books to the planet Zogg

The cookery books had been eaten

The witchcraft books had been turned into frogs and pumpkins

The books about buses and trains were late arriving


I'd already read the books about reincarnation in a previous life

The dinosaur books had been extinct for millions of years

I didn't know the password to access the computer books

The anagram books were all in a ledmud


The books about time travel were stuck in the year 1731

The chemistry books exploded with a loud BANG!

The maths books had been cut into quarters

The origami books had been folded into paper animals


The geography books were scattered around the world

The horror books were covered in cobwebs and buried in the graveyard

The superhero books were busy saving the planet from a deadly supervillain

The football books were having a half-time break


Then at last I found a poetry book

And this poem was my favourite one in it

Odd One Out

Everyone eats meat for their lunch

But veg is what I choose

Everyone loves the team in red

But I support the blues

Everyone owns a mobile phone

I'd rather go without

Yet I'm no freak

I am unique

It's fun to be the odd one out


Everyone's listening to rap

But I prefer hip hop

Everyone's hair is short or straight

But I've long curly locks

Everyone's right-handed, I'm left

But still I never doubt

That I'm no freak

I am unique

And proud to be the odd one out


Everyone's wearing trendy clothes

But mine are clearly not

Everyone's playing in the park

But I think it's too hot

Everyone says I'm super strange

They mock me so I shout

'I am no freak

'I am unique

'It's cool to be the odd one out!'




Topsy Turvy

When I was a boy

I used to think

That if I kept digging

The longest, largest, deepest hole ever

I'd end up in Australia

Where everything would be upside down


I'd wonder why its population didn't fall off the Earth

Never to return


Were the kangaroos really jumping up

Or trying so hard to jump down

To keep themselves from drifting into space?


Were the koalas actually climbing trees

Or hanging on to them for dear life?


Then it occurred to me

Australians must think that they are the right way up

And everything in Great Britain

Is upside down


(I discovered in later life that I would have surfaced in New Zealand, not Australia. I also learnt about gravity.)

Is This a Poem?

Is this a poem?

It doesn't rhyme

it doesn't possess a strong rhythm


Is this a poem?

The verses don't have a regular format

Some of the lines are short

And some of the lines are a little bit longer


Is this a poem?

It's not about anything of great importance like life or death, love or hate etc

It's simple and easy to understand (I hope)


Is this a poem?

It doesn't tell a story

It doesn't contain any complicated vocabulary or imagery


Is this a poem?

Does it matter what it is, so long as you enjoy reading it?

Couch Potato

I'm a couch potato

And the life I live is tough

People always tell me

That I never move enough

Resting and reposing

Is all I have ever done

Exercising daily

Isn't my idea of fun


I'm a couch potato

So relaxed you'd think me dead

Perfectly content

To spend a year alone in bed

Wouldn't choose a marathon

Cycling or a swim

Wouldn't opt for skateboarding

Ju-jitsu or the gym


I'm a couch potato

Stretching out on your settee

Rather watch the telly

Than to walk from A to B

Won't take up a hobby

Or give something new a try

Everyone calls me a slob

(Spelt L, A, Z and Y)


I'm a couch potato

As bone idle as they come

What's my favourite hobby?

Simply sitting on my bum

A spud just veg, no arms, no legs

No wonder I'm a slouch

Yes, I am a potato

Lying here upon your couch

Escapologist

Tie my hands and feet together

Toss my body in a sack

Lock me in a darkened dungeon

Until all I see is black

Hang me from the highest wire

Handcuffs fixed around my wrists

I guarantee

I'll still break free

I'm an escapologist


Put a straightjacket upon me

Lower me into a well

Keep me cooped up in a cavern

Bind me with a magic spell

Drown me in the deepest ocean

I am sure I'll not be missed

As you will learn

I'll soon return

I'm an escapologist


Leave me languishing in deserts

While the sun scorches my head

Drop me in the icy arctic

Lost in landscapes full of dread

Trap me in a burning building

I'll be able to resist

Like a genie

Or Houdini

I'm an escapologist

Nan’s Biscuit Lesson

I LOVED baking biscuits with Nan

So many styles and sorts of biscuits!


Long, short, fat, thin, round, rectangular, square - even triangular ones!


Some topped with chopped nuts, icing patterns or rainbow sprinkles


Some smothered in smooth white, milk or - my FAVOURITE - dark chocolate


Some containing crinkly raisins, super-sweet jam or yummyscrummy buttercream filling

But every type of biscuit she created was TOTALLY DELICIOUS

And although each was very different from the next

They all had the same three basic ingredients

Flour, butter, sugar

I thought that was AMAZING


I always laughed when Nan used to say that her biscuits were just like people

How could a biscuit be like a person?


Now, I’m a bit older and wiser

I finally understand what she meant by that


DO YOU?

Whodunnit?

The detectives arrived at the scene of the crime


Victim A: mesmerised by dazzling rhyme


Victim B: developed a reading infatuation


Victim C: grew a fantastic imagination


Victim D: heard rhythms racing round her head


Victim E: swapped his TV for some books instead


And who was the culprit?

That stumped the whole police force

I’m sure that you know

It was the poet

Of course