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Tag Archives: poem

Step into my Parlour, said the Spider to the Fly

Step into my Parlour, said the Spider to the Fly

“Come into my parlor,
said the Spider to the Fly;
the place is very comfy,
the ceiling nice and high.
Your wings could do with leisure,
they look quite beat to me
come in and fill your measure
of jam and toast for tea.”

***********
“Thank you kindly, Spider,
the simple Fly replied,
(the empty tum inside ‘er,
helping her decide)
“I’d love some jammy munchies
it’s been a long hard day
and have you any crunchies,
to go with my entree?

***********

The Spider smiled all nectarine,
and promised goo galore
“As much as you have ever seen,
you’ll never wish for more.”

***********

The Spider kept his promise,
the Fly could only wail
“Oh why did I so misconstrue
the meaning of your tale?
I should have guessed quite easily,
the menu of the day;
but here I land so queesily,
smack in the old puree.

***********

Which only goes to show anew
that smiles are mostly thin
and if a Spider welcomes you
you should never trust his grin…

***********

 
 

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I am a Troll and I live in a hole

I am a Troll and I live in a hole

I’m not a bat or a rat or a cat,
I’m not a gnu or a kangaroo,
I’m not a goose or a moose on the loose,
I am a troll and I live in a hole.
********************
I’m not a cow or a chow or a sow,
I’m not a snake or a hake or a drake,
I’m not a flea or a wee chimpanzee,
I am a troll and I live in a hole.
********************
Yarg yarg, quarck quarck, fried boiled or roast,
You’re the slick chick I dig the most ,
I’m not a ram or a clam or a lamb,
I’m not a hog or a frog or a dog,
I’m not a bus or a hip-potomus,
I am a troll and I live in a hole.
********************
Yarg yarg, quarck quarck, fried boiled or roast,
You’re the slick chick I dig the most,
I’m not a ram or a clam or a lamb,
I’m not a hog or a frog or a dog,
I’m not a bus or a hip-potomus,
I am a troll and I live in a hole.
I am a troll and I live in a hole.
********************

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To Boldly Go

To Boldly Go

To boldly go where no man has gone,

Our intrepid explorers fight the Klingons,

They battles with foes and forces unknown,

Kirk and his crew are so far from home.

 ******************

Warping past Dwarfs as red as can be,

Streaking through space, and all for the free,

The freedom of choice, for you and for me,

Our intrepid explorers go forward boldly.

 ******************

Out into the blackness, the fear and the dread,

Kirk and his crew by passion are led,

Explorers by nature, fighters by chance,

Man and machine go boldly ever on.

******************

It was a voyage of years, a mission of five,

That’s all was intended, I tell you no lie,

But forty years later they’re still forging on,

Onwards and upwards boldly going on.

Faster and faster towards a dawn.

******************

 

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There was an angry old Troll

There was an angry old Troll,

Who wanted to get rid of us all,

So he started to sing,

Like Des O’Connor, real mean,

And bored us to death; did that Troll.

*********************************

 

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A Troll in a Hole

The Troll in a Hole

Bolf was a troll

Who lived in a hole,

Doing nothing at all,

Or so I am told,

 **********

One day while alone,

In his dank little home,

A stick falling into the hole,

Struck his troll dome.

  **********

Grabbing hold of the stick,

Bolf made ready to hit,

The culprit, the thick,

Who played the cruel trick,

  **********

But on gazing outside,

His dank little hide,

Bolf saw no one in sight,

With his beady troll eyes.

  **********

Then he saw the fine day,

Not damp and all grey,

Like his hole in the clay,

That he thought was okay.

 **********

Climbing out of his hole,

Bolf fell in love with it all,

The beautiful world,

God’s gift to us all.

 **********

 

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I am dog (with a small g)

 

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dog (with a small d)

dog

I am a dog (that’s god spelt backwards).

***************

Yes; dog.

***************

dog, dog, dog.

***************

Woof!

It’s good being a dog.

***************

I can bark whenever I want to.

***************

I can play whenever I want to…

***************

And I can do nothing, if I so want to.

***************

It’s really quite grand being a dog.

***************

I have just seen next-door’s cat, so I must dash.

(It’s about time she had a good scare!)

***************

Signed: dog (with a small d).

************************

 

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Are You Normal?

stories for kids

Are you normal?

Are you normal?

Do you want to be,

A faceless person in a heaving sea,

With no aims, ambitions, dreams or goals,

Just happily plodding along that road?

**********

Are you slowly dying?

Don’t you feel the magic of each new day,

The sounds of laughter as children play,

The warmth of the sun on your back, so good,

The song of birds, the smell of wood?

**********

Are you passing time?   

Don’t you wonder at the sky, so blue?

The start and end so vague to you.

I hear you say, ‘I am happy, still,’

So too is an ant that has no will.

**********

Wake up, wake up!

It’s not too late,

There still is time to change your fate,

Renounce the normal, do something MAD,

Shock them all create a fad.

 **********

Be yourself, alive with goals,

With dreams and wonders still untold,

Exult this life in your distinctive way,

It’s yours alone; you must have your say,

Lest you slip into oblivion without a trace (left behind).

**********

The Crazymad Writer writes again.

 

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Red-hot Chilli Cola!

Red-hot Chilli Cola!

Hot, hot – ever so hot!

New Chilli Cola,

(It burns on the spot).

Will you dare try,

A sip of this beast?

Cola so hot, it makes your eyes weep.

 **********

Hot, hot – ever so hot!

New Chilli Cola,

How I forgot;

EVERYTHING after the very first sip,

Faded away, it was burnt to a crisp.

 **********

Hot, hot – ever so hot!

New Chilli Cola,

It burns on the spot,

This is your chance,

To step up and see,

If you are made of the stuff,

To enjoy this unique treat.

Well, do you think you are up tough enough to try some?

**********

 

 
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Posted by on October 14, 2013 in children's stories

 

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Conkers Bonkers

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Conkers is a pastime,

That we remember every year,

When September comes we search about,

To find these gems, so rare.

And when we’ve collected bagfuls,

Enough for you and me,

We rush them home to sort and grade,

Into classes one to three.

The first we use immediately,

To try our luck at play,

The second, we treat, cure and bake,

Into champions, I do say.

The third we leave for a whole year long,

Lodged in the chimney flue,

Until their day of glory comes,

I’ll make do with grades one and two.

 

 
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Posted by on October 13, 2013 in Stories for children

 

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