October 17, 2014

Terrible Toes

Something’s been nibbling a hole in my sock.

What could it be? Don’t you know?

There’s only one thing could do damage like that!

It must be a Terrible Toe.

Terrible Toes have rows of teeth

That gnash from morning till night.

Like pincers they pull at the tightly-knit wool

Then they take a ginormous big bite.

Terrible Toes go rip! snip! snap!

And they gobble and gorge for a while.

Then they let out a burp and lie down for a nap

With a really most satisfied smile.

Terrible Toes hide out in the dark

And the smelly damp air in your shoe.

I know that I’ve got Terrible Toes,

So look at your socks. Have you?




October 13, 2014

Rain Rhyme

Come on, Rain! You got to stop!

I got to get to the hardware shop!

And what do you think that I need to buy?

You guessed it right – a plug for the sky!

And when I’ve put that plug right in,

I’ll buy for myself a brand new grin.

The rain’s been such a pain today

That it washed my smile quite clean away.


October 10, 2014

Mum’s Drum

Our Mum played the drum

(tiddle um, tiddle um)

It drove us quite mad


So we told her to stop

(tiddle um, tiddle um)

Or we’d do something bad


But still she went on

(tiddle um, tiddle um)

This horrible clamour


So WE played the drum

(tiddle um, tiddle um)

Using a hammer





October 6, 2014

Auntie Violet’s Violin

Nothing makes a viler din

Than Auntie Violet’s violin.

If you got a thousand cats

And thwacked them all with baseball bats

(I shouldn’t need to tell you twice

That bashing cats is NEVER nice)

And then you amplified their howls,

Their mews, their yelps, their hissy-growls,

Until that most disgusting sound

Was heard for many miles around,

And then you kept it up all day

And all the night, you’d stop and say

That nasty noise, so rudely blared,

Was quite mellifluous compared

To Auntie Violet’s vile attempt

To play that loathsome instrument.

So that is why I got a bin

And put my Auntie Violet in.



October 2, 2014

Reminiscences of a Fish

I remember what?

I remember who?

I remember the cool

Of the coraly blue.

I remember where?

I remember why?

I remember the kiss

As the waves met the sky.

I remember which?

I remember how?

I remember this bowl,

And here, and now.

October 2, 2014


Poems. You know ‘em, right?

Shakespeare and that.

And all those words that were puked out,

Undigested, by some old dictionary.

Pick your favourite, Sir said.

Favourite? I thought. Favourite?

I don’t even like one of them!

I jabbed my finger into the book.

That one. It didn’t make sense,

Not when I read it. My head

Started spinning round as the words

Tumble-jumbled like somersaults

In my brain and I wanted to shout ‘STOP!’

But they wouldn’t let me.

I had to look away.

‘What does it mean?’ Sir said.

I shrugged a ‘dunno’ and gazed, confused,

Out of the classroom window.

A fly hummed.

Tennis balls drummed on the concrete.

And the sky was so blue

I could have sworn it was singing.


September 30, 2014



A really distressing disease.

The docs are quite sure that they won’t find a cure

For such tragic conditions as these.


The symptoms are plain as can be.

You spend all your days in a strange sort of haze

Watching endless repeats on TV.


It seems that I’m now feeling worse.

So try as I might that is all I can write,

No, I’m not going to finish this     .



September 26, 2014

Very Bad Hair Day

Snipetty, clipetty, clicketty clack,

Gripetty, nipetty, front and back.

Chop a bit, drop a bit. There, how’s that?

Somebody, please, just FETCH ME A HAT!

September 22, 2014

Quick! Sir’s Coming!

Can you sit, for a bit, with your bottom on your chair?

On your rump! Don’t slump! Keep your hands over there.

Don’t you fiddle fidget wriggle, don’t you wiggle, don’t you jiggle,

And don’t smile for while, try your hardest not to giggle.

Stop your twitching! Stop your itching! Sit still! Straight backs!

Phew – the teacher’s left the room, you can all relax!




September 19, 2014

Building Site Nights

When the city’s asleep, the dark is deep, and the people have gone to their beds,

Look at the cranes on the vast city plains, extending their saurian heads.

See how they stomp through the skyscraper swamp, scoffing the scaffolding trees,

And watch as they flex all the steel in their necks, in wait for a scent on the breeze.

Then hear their dread tread on the dead cold stone,

As they prowl down the pavements, proud and alone,

And they moan at the moon as they mourn the land’s past,

Till back to their sites they come stamping at last,

With only their prints in the puddle-pocked ground

To show that the cranes have been walking around.

When the city’s asleep, the dark is deep, and the people have gone to their beds,

Look at the cranes on the vast city plains, extending their saurian heads.


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