Tag Archives: stories for children

Bolf was a Troll; and he had a little bag

Bolf was a troll, and he had a little bag,

And he filled it up with trash, trash, trash;

Then he looked inside, and said to himself,

What a fine haul, what a stash, stash, stash.


When he brought it home to his troll wife Joan,

And he told her to look inside, side, side,

She gazed in the bag and sang out with joy,

Such a fine stash of trash, trash, trash.


Then they both sat down and ate the fine meal,

The very best meal they had, had, had, had.

The junk and the trash, and the tins and the crass,

Eaten with relish were soon gone, gone, gone.



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Old Troll Bolf

Old Troll Bolf was an ugly old Troll,

And an ugly old troll was he.

He called for his wife, An ugly old sight,

And he called for his children three.

Every child was an ugly young child,

And a n ugly young child was he.

There’s none so rare or can compare,

To Troll Bolf and his children, three.



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The Saga of Darren Shan – Cirque du Freak

The Saga of Darren Shan – Cirque du Freak

I  really enjoyed reading this book.


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Harry Rotter: Chapter Four

Harry Rotter

Chapter Four

Secrecy, at Any Cost

Next morning, Harry, knocking softly on Box’s bedroom door, whispered, “Box, are you awake?”

“Hmm, what is it?” he sleepily replied.

“I said, are you awake?”

“What time is it?” Box asked, while rubbing his eyes.

“It’s half past six.”

“Half past six, are you sure?” Box asked, unwilling to believe that even she would consider awakening him at so early an hour. Reaching for his glasses on the bedside locker, and then grabbing hold of his watch, Box looked at it, and saw that it was indeed that time.

“Yes, I am sure of it,” said Harry, though louder this time. “Are you getting up or do I have to send off for that snake, again?”

Remembering the snake, and what it had done to him, Box jumped out of bed, and said, “I am getting up – I really am!”



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A Christmas Fairytale

A Christmas Fairytale

 Christmas Eve so still I know,

But something’s in the wind,

There’s a sense of magic about,

It’s now we need our friends.



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Christmas Countdown

Christmas is coming



Wot, Nott, Kakuri and the HU BA HOU:

Part One – The Fabled Crest

eBooks for children; fantasy stories.

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Noddy and Big ears were out driving one day

Noddy and Big Ears were out driving one day

Noddy and Big ears were out driving one day,

When they heard that poor Golliwog, he just could not stay,

He’s politically incorrect, they were told by their peers,

Golliwog must go; do we make ourselves clear?


Golliwog must go, but how can that be?

He is our dear friend; it just cannot be!

We have had such good times with him and his kin,

Golliwog, you stay, they said with a grin.


Leaning down harder on Noddy and friend,

Their peers chastised them with their words once again,

The powers that be say he is not good for the land,

Or the people within it: Golliwog is banned!


Golliwog is banned? Now we know that you’re bad,

Said Noddy and Big Ears, (they were getting quite mad),

To punish our friend, to exile him in disgrace,

Just because of his skin and the look of his face!


Fighting back harder, Noddy and Big Ears they sang,

We’ll bring you to court, the highest in the land,

We’ll tell then you are racist, for denying our friend,

Our dearest friend, Golliwog, because of his skin.


Aghast and bamboozled that their case it was lost,

Their peers relinquished their grip on the fiendish old plot,

Okay, she said, Golliwog can stay,

Hurray, Noddy cheered, come on, let’s play!



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Oh to Have Legs (a slug’s prayer)

Oh to have legs like insects and things,

To walk on all fours is something I dream,

Or even just two, like HU-MAN THEINGS.

Would make me so happy, would realise my dreams


I dream of the day, I grow legs and see,

What it feels like to walk, not slime so lowly,

You see, I am a poor slug with no legs at all,

A garbled old thing, just slime and slow drawl.


Now don’t get me wrong it’s not all bad, I confess,

There are some perks living in a damp mess,

But I cannot help wonder about legs, I admit,

Oh lord give me legs, be it two, four or six.


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Posted by on November 4, 2013 in Stories for children


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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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Harry Rotter

Harry Rotter

Chapter One

No, our best china’s in there!

Mr. and Mrs. Privet, of number twenty-three Dorsley Drive, were anything but normal. They had been normal only a few weeks earlier, but they were now as crazy as anyone fortunate enough to have been incarcerated in the local loony bin.

On the outside, Mr. Privet, a tall, bald and incredibly thin man, appeared quite normal, but just beneath the surface, barely hidden, he was a seething mass of nervous ticks, idiosyncratic behavior, peptic ulcers and, above all, just plain loonyness.

As well as suffering from the same mad ways as her loopy husband, the extraordinarily fat Mrs. Privet was also suffering from the dreadful infliction of hearing voices in her head. She might hear them at any time of the day or night, and would oftentimes jump up in bed screaming in a most alarming way, giving her husband such a fright he’d begin shaking uncontrollably. It was a most dreadful state of affairs altogether. Despite suffering from these awful conditions, Mr. and Mrs. Privet tried to continue living as normal a life as was possible, but hardly a day went by without one of them experiencing a mad interlude that would make most normal people simply roll over and die.

Before I continue on with my story I must also tell you about their son Box, Box Privet. This child (the veritable apple of their eyes) was, like his father, of a tall and incredibly thin physique. At times this trait would cause him to be the butt of jokes and jibes by his classmates and acquaintances. However, he paid little or no attention, because his mind was always set firmly on the love, the passion of his life – electronics. Upstairs, in his small bedroom, Box would work for hours on end with his soldering iron, long nose pliers and tweezers creating, crafting bringing his new ideas to life. It was a lonely existence, but it suited him fine.

I have already told you how Mr. and Mrs. Privet had been quite normal only a few weeks earlier. In all truthfulness the Privet’s had been one of the happiest families in their entire estate of mock Elizabethan detached houses. But now they were mad, living in fear for their lives, the happy and contented existence they had so enjoyed in tatters, a shambles, and a shadow of what it had once been.

You see, the Privet’s had been hiding a secret, a big secret. And while it had been contained and suppressed, as they felt is should still be, they had been enjoying that happy and contented life, but from the moment, the very instant this secret, this terrible secret had escaped from its place of incarceration, a private boarding school going by the name of Hagswords, it came to an abrupt and shocking end.


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Harry Potter?

No, silly, she’s Harry Rotter!


Stories for children and young at heart adults

By ME, The Crazymad Writer – ARRRRGH.



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