Archive for childrens poem

Rush Goalies

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on September 24, 2008 by dc

The ball
Like a dog
Amongst pigeons,
Shirts with ripped
Pockets,
Haircuts
Like car crashes,
Arms in the air,

‘Me, me, ME!’

A fat boy
Is sweating
And spitting out
Bits of a pasty,
Another
Is ambling around,
Kicking others
In the shins.

Everyone’s
Exploding with gusto,
They’re like
Ants across sugar,
Moths ‘round
A flame,
A fight starts,
Ends and
Another begins.

It’s
25 – 26
As the
School bell
Rings.

Poetry.net

Custard Butterflies

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 28, 2008 by dc

I haven’t got a net,
A box or a jar,
But into the dining room
I roam,
Hunting for custard butterflies
To call my own.
Very rarely they flap,
Unless blown on a spoon,
And very rarely they flutter
Unless captured too soon.
But the expedition my friends,
The expedition is on
And when I find the custard butterflies
They soon will be gone.
For the hunt,
Yes the hunt,
Oh the hunt!
Is never a chore
The only downside
Is that I’m left wanting more.
More of the butterflies,
The sweet, creamy butterflies,
The yummy on flutter pies,
The scrummy on mutter sighs,
Bring me a farm,
A plantation,
A zoo
Of custard butterflies,
Until my utter size
Becomes a gut
Of splutter cries.

My Old Grandad

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on June 8, 2008 by dc

With a face like a teabag
Grandad would say,
“Don’t eat live pigeons,
They’ll turn your face grey.

Don’t swallow spanners,
Hammers or donkeys,
Don’t chew on bricks, they’ll
Make your teeth wonky.”

He was wise my old grandad
And wrinkled like prunes,
He’d make me rice puddings
Topped with mushrooms.

He’d tell me strange secrets
The world didn’t know
Like, “Did you know poodles
Were wolves with afros?

Did you know meatballs
Was Swedish for dog food
Or smoke from a chimney
Was really just fog stewed?”

I loved my old grandad
And cried when he died,
He was always there for me
And never told lies.