Philosopher on Tap » poems by children

My Uncle Tref

pink — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 11:44:31 +0000

My uncle likes rugby,
He likes to cheer them on,
Especially when they’re wearing red
And from the land of song.
He’s lately played around the world
In parliamentary strip,
The matches, dinners, beers and laughs
Were the highlights of his trip.

He also likes to surf,
He can stand up all the way,
So if he’s feeling lucky,
He can surf along the bay.
And while he’s taking on the waves
Tref’s trusty jeep stands by
To carry all the clobber back
To base camp where it’s dry.

Bacon, eggs, fried bread, tomatos
All laid out on a plate,
You just can’t beat it, uncle Tref loves it
Washed down with milk by the crate.
After breakfast and a stretch of hte legs
It’s time to sit and digest,
The hammock beckons temptingly
The snores….. they tell the rest.

Music is a hobby,
He can play all sorts of tunes,
From Mozart to rock and roll,
He’s even tried the spoons
It started on a windswept hill,
Guitar and amp in hand,
His dream back then was to be
In a world wide famous band.

But as we’ve rumbled through the years
His audience has changed,
Friends and family lend their ears and
In the Morning Star he’s famed.
Hungarian concert pianists play
‘longsides the Davies crowd,
Tref’s winning style and welcoming way
Cheers people quiet and loud.

fishy thoughts

Kezzie — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 07:51:14 +0000

My thoughts are like fish with every scale filled.

My bright ideas twinkling on and off,

Sometimes remembered sometimes forgot,

New thoughts old thoughts fill my brain.

Some shimmering fishes fall asleep and don’t wake up,

Others dance and prance to not be forgotten

Snow!

purple — Sat, 18 Dec 2010 08:01:30 +0000

As I was asleep in bed,
The little snow fairies came,
They danced in the air,
Bringing snowflakes falling everywhere.

I woke up next morning and guess what I saw,
What the little snow fairies had made,
On the way to the pool (to train of course),
My dad we’re not going to get there,
How disappointed I was but I still got to play in the snow.

So if you look out your window,
And see a land of white,
You’ll know that the snow fairies came.

Once Again.

purple — Fri, 12 Nov 2010 17:41:25 +0000

Gas, gas, gas,
I see a cloud of yellow,
Rolling on towards us searching for its prey,
My sergeant bellows, gas masks men come on quick,
I stand paralysed in fright, then fumble desperately to see the light,
It drifts towards us like a ghost in the night,
My fellow soldier standing next to me,
Crumples & falls, lies choking & writhing,
Suddenly he stops, lies still as a stone,
As if this cloud has sucked all the life & death out of him, leaving just an empty shell,

Men are yelling, falling, dying as I come to my senses,
The gas has gone but more terror has begun,
Bang, bang, bang a machine gun whirs, as if it will never end,
Then silence and nothing is heard,
I am standing among the dead,
My comrade is still beside me,
Eyes open, not seeing, not breathing, not living, just as still as stone.

And now 5 years later I stand in silence,
On the 11 day of the 11 month on the 11 hour,
To remember all the fallen,
Who will never see the light,
Never hear the laughter,
& will never remember anything again.

So you my fallen comrade,
I stand and in the silence remember you,
Once Again.

The Highwayman

John — Mon, 29 Mar 2010 18:00:02 +0000

Clippety-clop the hooves rang clear,
The Highwayman came riding,
Brave and with no fear,
Bang bang, the guards had fallen,
He cut the ropes off Bess,
And the Highwayman came riding away,
From the old inn’s distress.

I am that merry wanderer of the night.

discrete orange — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 22:12:07 +0000

I am that merry wanderer of the night.
Tis I who wakes you with the terrible screeches
Of cats and dogs. I make the tap drip,
That’s so annoying and unstoppable.
I bring death to your wheelie bin, then
Drape the contents over your newly pruned hedge.
Never am I caught committing these
Dastardly deeds. Tis I who trips the
Electricity, forcing you to miss
The football match causing great monotony.
Tis I who lets out all of your chickens
From the hen house letting them run wild in
The garden. I scatter crisp packets over
The road and last night’s McDonald’s or the
Pizza box from the kebab shop. Greasy and
Unpleasant. Then I dig up your pot plant
Turning the front garden into a soil wasteland.
I unclamp the caravan then push it,
Down a hill, putting an end to your plans,
For a nice little holiday in the
South of France. I drain your pond and eat all
The fish diverting the water into
Next door’s perfectly manicured croquet lawn.
That unstoppable car alarm that will
Never cease to drive the neighbours to insanity.
I put down the patch of ice causing
Pedestrians to slip all over the place.
I change the road signs from left to right,
Sending a visiting driver in the
Wrong direction. I make the night hell since
I am that merry wonderer of the night.

the Christmas s(h)ock

discrete orange — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 20:47:25 +0000

Last Christmas I got a bit of a shock,
I opened a present to find a sock,
I dived on the presents to explore,
And to my disappointment I found three more,
That made two pairs of socks!
Where was my computer game?
Where was my watch?
Could it be happening once again?
Where socks and oranges are the domain…

Stockings

purple — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 16:26:42 +0000

Soon my stocking will be full,
its just hanging empty at the mo,
I’ve slept a night and now its full to the brim,
So I’ll spend the morning opening them,
And thanking everyone for my pressies,
So now you know what a stockings for go and use yours!!!!!!!!

Its Christmas Everyone

purple — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 16:15:27 +0000

Its so nearly Christmas,
I just can’t wait,
The present pile under the tree is growing,
There’s one for you and one for me,
Time flies by, its Christmas eve already,
Just one more sleep until…
ITS CHRISTMAS EVERYONE

Teddy Bear

purple — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 10:14:49 +0000

He may be small,
He may be big,
But he’s definately good to hug.
I love him to bits,
I think he’s wonderful,
and I’ve had him all my life.
Although he’s tattered and he’s torn he’s still standing tall,
He’ll still be there when I’m eighty four,
Yes thats my teddy bear.