Sparkling diamonds bright and bold
For sure there’s lots of gold
People taking extreme care
Jewels make people happy in the air
Do you realise they come from the ground
It’s really good when they’ve been found
Smooth and glistening to the touch
Not carrying a single spec of dust
They come in all colours, shapes and sizes
And you could win one in big prizes
And as diamonds come as a symbols of love
You must be good
Snowflakes are falling, little noses are cold,
snow at Christmas brings joy to both young and old.
In woolly hats and long scarfs bundled up warm as toast,
you’re thinking about stories of Christmas and ghosts.
Mom watches you as play and laughs at the snow,
as your cold little hands make snowballs to throw.
You know Santa’s coming and Rudolph too,
with a sleigh full to brimming with presents for you.
Now it’s late Christmas eve so hurry up to bed!
and dream of candy canes and men of gingerbread.
Now it’s Christmas morning and you wake with a yay!
Mom! Dad! wake up! – It’s now Christmas day!
Poems can be good
Poems can be bad
Poems can be snappy
and
Poems can be RAD
I don’t like writing poems
I like going to the park
But if this carries on much longer
It’s going to be DARK
As night falls upon us
the sky grows dark
The bright stars twinkle
and on a tree branch nestles a lark.
The constellations slowly disappear
as the clouds form above.
While the children are tucked into bed
wrapped in several layers like a dove.
The moon shines bright
as the nocturnals come about.
The night goes on,
as a badger lifts his snout.
The snow falls down,
covering up the land.
And you know what,
a snowflake lands on my hand.
As night comes to an end,
sunrise appears.
The endless night sky vanishes
within the bright light of day.
Joe started the flow
Pete started the beat
Lance started the dance
Stig started the jig
Meg rolled like an egg
Sam made the ham
Pat grew fat so Tim brought him to his gym
Daniel came with his Spaniel
Mat sat on the cat
Jake ate all the cake
Doris beat up Boris
Jewel acted the fool
and the party ended up in disaster.
What do you see, when you look to the skies?
The golden eagle so graceful and wise.
What do you see, look over the horizon?
The golden eagle that still flies on.
What do you see swooping over rooftops?
The golden eagle which suddenly stops.
What do you see when you look in a mirror?
The golden eagle within me, suddenly much clearer.
My mate,
his fate
is late
for the gate.
At school
he’s a fool
and used like a tool.
In maths he wrote two plus 7 is four
And the head-teacher’s knocking at the door
She shouted
She pouted
Saying he was bad
But, my mate was glad
That he got attention
And still no detention.
We walk home together
This girl called Heather
Calls us weird
It’s just what I feared
We looked at the sky
Too soon we said bye
When I got home,
My mum started to drone
All about the newspaper
And this great baker
She droned on for hours and hours
I could’ve climbed 100 towers
I definitely didn’t do that
I just picked up her new hat
And threw it at the wall
It bounced off and flew down the hall
I went to bed anyway
And wished tomorrow would be a better day,