Poems

Gold outline
Beautiful scriptures
Glass case
Nailed on the wall
Big bold reflection
Lights
Darkness

Last night, I saw the village dancing,
Lots of children,
Dancing and
Prancing away
To the speakers’ singing mouths.

Last night, I saw the village swimming,
Big breezes of yachts,
Gliding through and
Floating gracefully out
Of tunnels’ talking throats.

Last night, I saw the village baking,
Crowded chefs,
Baking cakes and
Cooking steaks
And kitchens screaming, “Let’s bake!”

Last night, I saw the village starving,
Grown-ups chanting for food,
Licking their plates clean!
Chubby churches got stuffed with people
And chimed across the residence.

Last night, I saw the village weeping,
The roof tops flapped frantically,
Two buildings collapsed suddenly and
Clothes leaked out of smashed windows.

Last night, I saw the village partying,
Mrs Middleton drove rapidly to the hall and
The street lamps watched over the scene,
And the lasers,
Like a wire,
Shone in the starry night sky.

Last night I saw the bedroom awakening
The blinds were blinking lazily
Stretching and yawning
As drawers shouted!

Last night I saw the bedroom crying
Books dejectedly sat on the shelves
Carpets stayed frantically still
Shadows stood upon the wall.
Windows were soaked with tears.

Last night I saw the bedroom laughing
Alarm clocks got the giggles!
Mirrors shook hysterically.
And
Sheets completely creased themselves.

Last night I saw the bedroom starving
Curtains smacked their lips and ate seven windows.
And the fans stuffed there faces with wind.

Last night I saw the bedroom dancing
Chester drawers opened there mouths happily
Doors split their sides and held hands with hinges.
And carpets completely out creased themselves.

Last night I saw the bedroom sleeping
Pillows night dreamed!
Covers warmed themselves up
Bedside lamps quietly boasted,
“When I grow up I want to own this bedroom.”
And the carpet
Was like a flying rug
Snoozed in the dark gloomy night

I will put in the hat
The screech of a shooting star on a summer night,

Frost from a cold blooded dragon,
The tip of a tooth touching a tube.

I will put in the hat
a solid rock pounding on the earth,
the zap of a broken wire going through your body,
a sparking flame from a fire breathing dragon.

I will put into the hat
Three mastered forces controlled with power,
The last strike of an ancient staff,
And the first wave of a young ghost.

I will put into the hat
A sixteenth realm and a new crystal,
A Ninja on a dragon,
And a Sensei riding on an air boat.

My hat is fashioned from straw and bamboo and gold,
With weapons in the hat and energy all around,
Its edges are the blades of a sword.

I shall ride in my hat
On the strongest breeze from a old student,
Then land by a dojo,
The colour of an ancient dragon.

Last night I saw the jungle breathing
Leaves exhaled in and out
Branches wiggled their fingers
And the trees
In the breeze
Put on a show for all to see

Last night I saw the jungle laughing
Plants got the giggles
Trees split their sides,
And the branches noisily waved their arms

Last night I saw the jungle dancing
Palm trees swayed in the breeze
Trees wiggled their hips all over the place
And the plants
In the breeze
Twirling and twisting

Last night I saw the jungle starving
Flowers smacked their lips
And plants wilted
Monkeys swinging, trying to find food

Last night I saw the jungle crying
Leaves bowed to the lonely trees
Animals rubbed their swollen eyes

Last night I saw the jungle sleeping
Animals dreamed
Stars quietly boasted
‘When I grow up I am going to be a shooting star.’
And in the wind
Like a butterfly

I will put in the bag
The soft silk of a blanket
Water from a sparkling waterfall
The trees touching the sky

I will put in the bag
A chair with stomping feet – ‘bang!’
A cup of the coldest water
A flash of bright lightning

I will put in the bag
Three silver coins
The first word of a new born
The last smile of an ancient uncle

I will put in the bag
A short season and a bright sun
A fairy on a farm
And a farmer on a unicorn

My bag is made of gold and silver
With flowers all around and smiles in the corners
Its fabric is the finger joints of a child

I will stroll in my bag
On the twirling leaves
Then walk across the soggy grass
The colour of a tree

I will put in my pocket
A snowball fight with my dog
Water from an undiscovered country
The tip of a finger touching a snowflake

I will put in my pocket
Three dark secrets written in hieroglyphics
And the first noise for a new born puppy
A static spark from a witch’s fingers

I will put in my pocket
Two spiteful wishes spoken in Spanish
And the first step for a producer
And the last word for a British soldier

I will keep in my pocket
An elegant and beautiful sun
And an evil disgusting moon
A fighter pilot in a Taxi
And a Taxi driver in a blitz crusader

My pocket is fashioned with
Summoning silk
With shadows on the floor and light on the ceiling
Its hinges are filled with all the happiness of the world

I will hide in my pocket
Viciousness to animals
And I will wash away all of the extinction threats to animals

I will put in my box

A single secret whispered in my ear
The last tear shared at an ancestor’s funeral
A melting snow flake on the tip of my nose

I will put in my box

Five gentle soldiers that fought in the war
A drop of grey water from Lake Lachrymose
A wardrobe of delicate dancing clothes.

I will put in my box

Four silent tasks tackled by a loving mum
The funniest memories of an older cousin
The last time I went to sleep

I will put in my box

The first brown leaf of autumn
Ten of the shiniest pennies from a wishing well
An icicle from the top of Mount Fuji

My box is fashioned from platinum copper and diamond
With a mind of its own
The lid is a bullet proof cover for protection

I shall sit in my box
In the corner with my secrets
Then come out a year later and the sky will be blue
The colour of the bluest butterfly

I will put in my pocket,
The swish of a snowy storm,
Ice lays on the Atlantic,
The tip of a tongue touching a snowflake.

I will put in my pocket,
A reindeer with a glowing nose,
A sip of hot chocolate a cold Christmas Eve,
A thrown snowball from a young boy,

I will put in my pocket,
Three peaceful wishes spoken by Santa,
The last joke from a Christmas cracker,
And the Christmas for a new born baby

I will put in my pocket,
The last season and a bundle of presents,
Santa in a race car,
And a racer in a sleigh.

My pocket is fashioned from ice bark and snow,
With a shining star and Christmas trees in the corners,
Santa sitting down with elves guarding him.

I shall dive in my presents,
In the great grotto of the wild North Pole,
Then wash ashore for the presents of Xmas,
The colour of festive times!

The teachers are doing their work
but they think it is boring
My teacher is very strict sometimes