Poems

I will put in my tray
The crack of the coins crunching and clashing together,
The spotty lion slowly playing the piano,
The house galloped as fast as his legs could carry him into the fields

I will put in my tray
An ugly green gremlin staring at humans,
A great big hippo jogging around the zoo,
A big yellow pencil jumping in the air,

I will put in my tray
A trolley writing a lovely piece of work,
A poster bursting into laughter the curtains joked,
A snowman laughing like there is no tomorrow,

I will put in my tray
A beautiful stunning sun shining above the house,
A car flying thought the track,
And an elephant stomping like a building is being destroyed,

My tray is fashioned by dancing
A big monkey heaving a rock
A football hoped in excitement
A pencil case bounced up and down

I will put in my black boot

A swish of a sparkling 5p coin on Christmas Eve
Water dripping from Santa’s fat belly
The bottom of Santa’s bottom
Blocking bricks at the top of the chimney
I will but in my black boot
A snowman rapping on his belly,
“Santa Clause is Coming to Town.”

A kiss from reindeers
A leaping leg from rude reindeers
I will put in my black boot
Three spoken wishes by Santa
The last joke of Mrs Clause
And a first smile of Mr Bean

A new season and a new sun

And a witch who’s taken over Santa’s place

My boot is decorated from red velvet from Santa’s sleigh
With stars on the side and secrets to be discovered
I shall surf in my shoe

Then wash up at Santa’s grotto
The colour of the wrinkly ice

I keep in my pocket,

A static spark from a magician’s wand,
Lava from an undiscovered volcano,
The tip of my finger holding a tear drop.

I will put in my pocket,

The first cry of a mother’s child,
The first star above the sky,
And a snowball fight with my brother.

I will put in my pocket,

Three dark secrets spoken in Arabic,
The last hysterical laugh of a grandad,
The last film of a famous producer.

I will put in my pocket,

A sixth sense and a black hole,
A boat slowly about to sink,
And a young ogre on a hobby horse.

My pocket is fashioned from emerald’s
Stolen by an evil wizard many moons ago,
With stars in the sea and the moon in the corner,
The seams have been threaded by a fairy.

I shall hide in my pocket in a great hide and seek adventure
Then play in the long luscious grass for hours,
The colours of the sun are orange and yellow,
But it is hot like fire.

I will put in the Tesco’s bag

The ray of a silk summery sun on an ordinary evening,

Pocket money from the change machine, as old as a museum,
The tip of a candle touching a lighter.

I will put in the Tesco’s bag

A plate with a rumbling belly,
A sip of water from the cold coral waters,
A leaping spark from an electric eel.

I will put in the Tesco’s bag

Three secret wishes written in Spanish,
The last laugh of a dying man,
And the first noise of a new born baby.

I will put in the Tesco’s bag

A sixth season and a green sun,
A princess on a broomstick,
And a witch on a horse.

My bag is printed with a Tesco logo,
With big bold letters.
Its handles are strong plastic.

I shall swim in my bag
On the great pile of shopping,
Then wash ashore in my cosy house.

I will put in my black boot
The swish of a sparkling five pence coin on Christmas Eve
Water dripping from silly Santa’s fat belly
And Santa’s bottom touching the top of the chimney.

I will put in my black boot,
A Snowman rapping Santa Clause is Coming to Town
A kiss from Santa’s reindeer
A leaping leg from Santa’s sleigh.

I will put in my black boot,
Three spoken wishes by Santa
The last joke from Mrs Clause
And the first expiration of Santa’s baby.

I will put in my black boot
A new season and a new sun
A donkey on a flying carpet
And a witch taken over Santa’s duty.

My black boot is fashioned from red velvet and Santa’s sleigh
With star on the side and secrets in the inside
Its legs are like a dinosaurs toe nails.

I shall surf in my black boot
On the great high- rolling barkers of the wild Atlantic
Then wash up at Santa’s grotto the colour of snow.

I will put in the top hat

The smell of the freshest cinnamon,
Water from the nozzle of a deodorant can,
A tip of a towel tiredly hanging off the door.

I will put in the top hat

A screwdriver with a starving stomach
A quarter of the salt from Dead Sea,
A jumping spark from an electric eel.

I will put in the top hat

Three stupid wishes spoken in Irish
The last joke of an ancient grandad
And the first love of a baby

I will put in the top hat

A fifth season and a blue sun
A vampire on a tiger
And a snowman on a broomstick

My top hat is fashioned from fire, allium and titanium
With bows on the side and secrets around the rim
Its lace is made from the scales of the biggest crocodile

I shall skate in my top hat
In the greatest skate park ever
Then fall over on a yellow beach
The beautiful colour of the sun.

I will put in the chest
A pluck of a string on the Devil’s guitar
The first light of the sun in the horizon
The swift swish of a katanas blade

I will put in the chest
A snowman with moving arms
A chip of wood from the oldest tree
A spark of light from a campfire

I will put in the chest
Three blue wishes spoken by Polish
An old joke which filled the shop with laughter
And a dog’s first howl

I will put in the chest
A sixth season with a red moon
A witch on a horse
And a cowboy on a dusty broomstick

My chest is fashioned from Ice Emeralds and fire
With the moon on the lid and trees in the corner
Its hinges are the finger joints of Ryan

I shall fly in my chest
On the great high rolling pyramid in the wild Egypt
Then wash ashore on the green beach
The colour of the moon.

Oh what lurks in the deep dark sea
Animals and creatures unlike you and me
Tails so long pointy and sharp,
Don’t ever touch it, or explode in a spark
Light of day, day of light
Under the deep dark sea is just some fright
Glow in the darkness, just listen around
Don’t look back if you hear a sound
In the deep dark sea, the deep dark sea…

I keep in my pocket,

The static spark from a magician’s wand
The blinding light of an Anglo fish
The tip of my finger holding a teardrop.

I keep in my pocket

A snowball fight with my brother
Hot lava retrieved from an undiscovered volcano
And a drop of the first rainbows colour.

I will keep in my pocket

A sixth sense and a black hole
A witch sleeping soundlessly
And a young ogre on a hobby horse.

I will keep in my pocket

Three dark secrets spoken in Hindu
The first drop of water from Niagara Falls
And a lock of the first born baby’s hair.

My pocket is fashioned from the finest emerald stolen by an evil wizard
With stars on the seam and the moon in the corner
Filled with children’s dreams

I shall hide in my pocket
On a great hide and seek adventure
To then wash up on a majestic golden sand beach
The sun a burning blaze.

I will put in my Tesco’s bag

The ray of a silk summery sun on an ordinary evening,
Pocket money from the change machine, as old as a museum,
The tip of a candle touching a lighter,

I will put in my Tesco’s bag

A plate with a rumbling belly,
A sip of water from the cold coral waters
And a leaping spark from an electric eel.

I will put in my Tesco’s bag

Three secret wishes written in Spanish,
The last word from a dying man
And the first noise of a new-born baby.

I will put in my Tesco’s bag

A sixth season and a green sun,
A princess on a broomstick
And a witch on a horse.

My bag is printed with a Tesco logo,
With big bold letters,
Its handles are strong plastic.

I shall swim in my bag
On the great pile of shopping,
Then wash ashore in my cosy house.