Allsorts

A angel in the book of life
wrote down the baby birth…

You have to write only your own poems
in The Poetry Zone, Ebony

Flowers rise, flowers fall,
Seasons shift and change for us all.
Sunlight dances, shadows spread,
Some days sparkle, some feel heavy instead.

You might feel joy, you might feel mad,
You might feel calm, or a little bit sad.
But through every turn, every moment you’ve had,
Your worth stays steady. You’re never bad.

Life hums softly, life roars loud,
Sometimes you stand tall, sometimes you’re bowed.
But every feeling—bright or drab—
Is part of being human, never something “bad.”

So let your petals open wide,
Let storms pass through, let colors collide.
Whatever you feel, whatever your path has had,
You’re growing, you’re learning, and you’re never bad.

What’s that under my bed?
What’s that under my bed?

It is making weird sounds
It is creeping me out

What’s that UNDER MY BED???

Oh Disney, oh Disney
What fun you are
When I go I laugh so much
I think I would burst
You have so many rides
So much wonder
And best of all
You bring families together

My little fur baby
is like a hurricane
Every corner I turn he is there
Ah, I say, My fur baby
Do you want a treat?
Oh yes he does
and his little tail goes weeeeeeee

My friend group is a group of 5
We walk on the paths with laughter so loud
Everyone can hear us
They are kind, loving, gentle and best of all
AMAZING

My BFF is aged nine and nice
My BFF is aged nine and nice and turns my frown upside down
My BFF is aged nine and nice and turns my frown upside down and
never lets me down
My BFF is aged nine and nice and turns my frown upside down and
never lets me down. He helps me if I say I’m not fine.
My BFF is the nicest person in the world
and I’m glad to have met him.

A friend as kind as mine,
helps me when I say I’m fine,
when I’m sad he helps me be glad.
My friend says he’s mad but I say he’s sad,
he helps a lot of nice guys when their sad
He helps them to be glad.
When I’m alone he comes and helps me to not moan.

Here at Sports Day the sun is blazing
I want to see who I’m facing
Running over obstacles, up and down
I’m going to turn my frown upside down
Over benches and under chairs
We are already in Sports Day pairs
Running around cones and staying in zones
I’ve just started running and now I’m at home

The night lets go in trembling threads of grey
a hush still clings to roofs and sleeping trees;
the air tastes faint of rain, of earth’s slow sway.
While sparrows stitch the silent into pleas
A single sunbeam spills like molten glass,
it warms the frost that clings to windows’ breath;
each shade bends, allows the light to pass
and trades its quiet shape for life from death
We rise , not knowing what the hours will keep,
yet carry in our chests that tender spark – the fragile flame