Archive for the ‘poems for children’ Category

Lilyana – flower of the Wiltshire plains

Monday, September 14th, 2009

Deep down amongst the grasses green
That grow on the Wiltshire plains
There’s a flower known as Lily
Who blossoms whenever it rains

It’s an odd way around I’m sure you’ll agree
But Lily’s no normal plant
Her golden petals and beautiful scent
Warm the heart of each passing ant

The beetles all love her and bees simply swoon
Each time Lily pops out of the ground
Every year in the spring when the sun comes again
In the meadows is where she’ll be found.

The cows are her friends and they leave her to bloom
Without adding her leaves to their cud
Though they have to take care not to tread on her stalks
When the ground all around churns to mud

Because Lils likes it most when the rains come to soak
– it’s the sky shedding tears of delight
At the thought of young Lily beginning to smile
What a beautiful, beautiful sight.

A Few Things You Need To Know About Elephants and Cows

Sunday, August 23rd, 2009

Cows have horns in different places to elephants. Both need to be avoided.

Cows don’t have trunks, elephants do which can come in very handy especially for drinking up buckets of beer and then squirting it at whoever is sitting opposite.

Never try and milk an elephant, it could have fatal results and in any case elephant milk doesn’t go well with tea.

Cows are afraid of tigers but I don’t think elephants are, though I’m not 100% sure on this one.

Cow poo is a different shape to elephant poo and you can’t play bowls with it although it is good as a frisbee once it has dried.

Both cows and elephants can be called Nellie. Norman, however, is an unusual name for both species.

Nellie the cow packed her trunk and said goodbye to the circus – yep that works.

You would never get an elephant flying over the moon though, they’re far too big and heavy and would take too much rocket fuel to get them going.

You can get more people on the back of an elephant provided it is a fully grown adult.

Happy birthday Megsy.


Saturday, August 15th, 2009

Leave my cake alone
I’m keeping it for my tea
If you go and eat it
There’ll be none left for me

Leave my cake alone
I’ve hidden it from my mummy
If she went and found it
It would end up in her tummy

Leave my cake alone
It’s covered in chocolate cream
If you try and lick it
You will surely make me scream

Leave my cake alone
You pastry popping daddy
Coz if you scoff it down
It will make you feel a baddy

Leave my cake alone!

For Stella on her birthday.

The Orinoco Trail

Saturday, April 11th, 2009

In the morning the mist rolled down from the peaks
To mingle with the steam rising from the hot springs
That formed the headwaters of the Orinoco river.
The snows were still waiting to melt but we floated around the pools
Enjoying the scenery and the fact that we were warm
In spite of the obvious cool of the mountains.

Exploring the waters we were suddenly caught
In a current that left us powerless to resist;
Swept downwards we struggled to keep our heads
Above the torrent and to avoid the attentions of the rocks
That waited their chance at each bend.

In no time at all, it seemed, we found ourselves
Down the river and out at sea fighting huge waves
That pummeled us as much as had the river earlier in our journey.
The waves eventually grew smaller and we were washed
Onto a gentle sloping beach where we were able to recover.

Around us were exotic plants of all kinds
And above the beach the miracle of a terrace bar,
No illusion this but an invitation to partake.
Dripping back to our towels we picked up some
Valuables to barter for ice creams with the locals.

Wild water rapids we got licked!

The Flower

Thursday, September 4th, 2008


delicate yet deceptively strong.

Wind and rain can blow and batter

yet, still, when the warmth of the sun pours out,

we are rewarded with  beauty.

John is partial to his sport

Sunday, August 31st, 2008

John is partial to his sport
He can play most any sort,
Give him a bat and give him a ball
He’ll have a go at them all.

Johnny’s keen on football,
The best centre forward yet,
He runs ahead and scores the goals
Without his breaking sweat.

At playing cricket he excels
And bowls a steady line,
Then when he’s batting whacks the ball
For sixes every time.

Golfing’s great when John’s around
He hits it down the middle,
He always gets a hole in one
With hardly any trouble.

Swimming up and down he does
Before he goes to school,
He ploughs the lanes with a fast front crawl
In the town swimming pool.

At badminton his record is
Eighty three with Tom,
And if he keeps on practising
It will be 100 before long.

He paddles here he paddles there
When kayaking with his brothers,
Eskimo rolls and a big seal launch
Whilst splashing one another.

Basketball? – he’s not very tall
So he hasn’t played this yet,
But when he grows a foot or two
He’ll find that high up net.

At rugby he’s a fast scrum half
And scores before you know it,
He is the best but it must be said
That tennis is his favourite.

He’s ace at serving, volleys hard
His back hand is great to see,
But his forehand topspin beats the lot
If you were asking me.

When it’s raining hard outside
At snooker he’s quite able,
Then he likes to play ping pong
Upon the kitchen table.

John is partial to his sport
He can play most any sort,
Give him a bat and give him a ball
He’ll have a go at them all.


Friday, August 29th, 2008

Lilly’s such a silly billy
Likes to dance and play the fool
People think she’s a bit crazy
But not me I think she’s cool.

This is only a short poem
Because Lilly’s not so tall
But it’s only fair to mention
She’s only six, that’s why she’s small.

Her mummy tells me she is mad
I think that’s a great thing to be
If she wasn’t I’d be sad
She really means a lot to me.

Cos mad mad mad mad mad mad mad
Makes her popular at school
People think she’s a bit crazy
But not me I think she’s cool.

Cheese – a poem for Stella

Friday, August 29th, 2008

There are lots of different kinds of cheeses
Some with holes and some, which when you smell ‘em
blows your socks off to your kneeses
filling your head with lots of sneezes.

Not all cheese is holy,
except when eaten by a vicar
or an Archbishop of Canterbury.

Not all cheese is smelly
Unless left in the fridge too long
In which case it’ll start to pong.

Some cheese is blue, its true
The choice is yours
It’s down to you.

If you prefer orange or red or green
This type of cheese is often seen
Upon the supermarket shelf
And if eaten in moderation
Is said to be quite good for your elf.

Spreadable, dunkable, toastable cheese
Is sometimes all it takes to please
A yatchsman sailing on high seas.

But best of all is good old cheddar
A taste I learnt of from another
Who said it originates from a cow
I found it difficult to believe how,
When it clearly comes in a plastic cover
Bought in Tesco by my mother.

Bears don’t sit on chairs – a poem for Megsy on her birthday

Thursday, August 28th, 2008

Bears don’t sit on chairs,
You see their bottoms are too hairy
And they’re really very heavy
So they don’t find perching easy.
When they come in from the woods
With their paws all wet with honey –
A chair can get quite sticky
And their mothers do get fussy
Because it makes the cushions smelly.
So when they watch the telly
They’re made to sit upon the floor
On a rug
Which is difficult to break
Unlike the chair
And they’re not allowed a drink
Because a spill could cause a stink
Which again their mums don’t like – I think..
Bears don’t sit on chairs.