My Monster

I had a monster that lived under my bed.
(You know the one, he had horns on his head.)

Well, he’s gone! Vanished. Poof! Into the sky.
He’s left me alone and I think I know why.

It was all that kerfuffle that went on last night
I’m sure that it gave him a terrible fright.

He was minding his business, just picking at fluff.
He’d arranged my old gum –‘one more chew’ or ‘too tough’.

He’d sorted my socks, had them neatly in pairs…
When he heard a big bump on the tread of the stairs.

He curled up in a corner and he tucked in his knees.
He lay very still and he held in a sneeze.

If Mum hadn’t looked where she shouldn’t have peeked,
If she’d left my gum wrappers, she wouldn’t have shrieked.

And if she hadn’t screamed and gone off her tree,
There’d still be us…my monster and me.

Mum says that the monster had never been there,
It was just an old pillow that gave her a scare.

She said it had been there for weeks-“What a sight!”
-and it was that, not a monster, that gave her a fright.

Well, I’m not coming out from under these covers
Till my monster comes back, despite meddling mothers.

Thar She Blows!

I ate some chips and chocolate
Chowed down on cheddar cheese
I had parsley, pies and pumpkin
And a pot of mushy peas.

I gorged on goose and gravy
Grossed out on gumbo greens
I shovelled in some shellfish
And ten tangy tangerines.

I reached out for a smidgen more
But my tummy roared and rumbled
It swelled up like a big balloon
It groaned… It growled… It grumbled.

“Look out! She’s going to blow!” they called
And they scattered, far and wide,
Before my tum erupted…
And lost all it had inside.

Dippy Eggs

Eggs for dinner
One Two Three
Here’s some more, come and see

Four Five Six
They’re brown and fat
Put them into Poppy’s hat

Check the nest
Of big black hen
Now there’s Seven Eight Nine Ten

We’ll have them boiled
With dippy toast
For dinner I like eggs the most

My Pigeon

My pigeon just pooped on my teacher
‘Plop’ down the end of his nose
It slid to the tip
Then dropped on his lip
And pooled in the hair on his toes.

Stilettos

My alligator wears stilettos
from the very best up-market shop
He pays a fair price
and they're ever so nice
but they're made from his nan and his pop

The Zit

There’s a zit and it sits
On the end of my nose.
It’s pink and it’s plump
And each day it grows.

But although it’s humungous
That isn’t the worst –
It’s full of white pus
And it’s ready to burst.

The problem is this,
It’s really quite simple,
I can’t see the nose
At the end of my pimple!

Thank you

Thank you to the lovely people who left comments on my poetry. As you who are writers will know, it is a great boost to your creativity to have some positive feedback. Having the blog has also given me the impetus to write more, and more often, which is great.
Cheers
Lynn

My Sister has a 'Blog'

Hi, this blog must be playing on my mind... this new poem is about a blog.


My sister says she has a ‘blog’
(I notice she’s been scratching)
I don’t know what a ‘blog’ is
But I hope it isn’t catching.

Though, I really think it might be,
Because Mum now has one too
I hope they keep it to themselves
I really do not want the flu

Of course I blame the internet
I’ve warned them of the dangers
They’re always on their laptops
-who knows what you’ll catch from strangers?

But I didn’t know computers
Were susceptible to wogs
Now mine has got a virus
I bet it’s caught one of those ‘blogs’.

"I'm thick, I'm thick!"

I have the flu
I do, I do!
My nose is thtuffed
Like glue, like glue.

My eyes are running
My throat is thore
My tongue feels like
A thawmill floor

My head is pounding
Like a drum
Atum, atum,
ATUM, TUM, TUM!

I need the bathroom
I need it quick
Out of the way,
I’m thick, I’m thick!

Bleech, bleuch,
Ooops! Watch your feet,
Mmm..that feels better.
What’s to eat?

I Have a Pet...

I have a pet constrictor
He’s making me quite worried
I think he wants to eat me
Deep-fried, or maybe curried.

I have a pet tarantula
His legs are long and hairy
I can’t take him for show and tell -
my teacher’s much too scary.

I have a pet orang-utan
He’s making me quite cross
His breath smells like a monkey
And he won’t use dental floss.

I have a pet rhinoceros
His horn is made of hair
He doesn’t let me plait it
I think it’s quite unfair.

I have a pet triceratops
He thinks he’s still alive.
(I suppose that I could tell him,
But I don’t think I’d survive)

I have a pet hibiscus
But I think she has a fault.
She never goes for walkies
And she doesn't seem to moult.

This is a poem that a couple of people wanted to read, which prompted me to finally get my blog off the ground. Many of my poems would benefit from accompanying illustrations as I tend to write with pictures in my head, so I hope you can all picture your own versions of my favourite yak :)

There’s a bump
On the hump
Of my favourite yak
But it’s not on the front, and it’s not on the back.

So the lump
On his hump
Makes him lean to one side
And I slide off my seat when I go for a ride.

A new bump
On his hump
To the right of his head
might make him stand up - or it might leave him dead.

Heellloooo out there!!!

Hello all ( or none, as the case may be :) )
Welcome to my Blog!
I am very new to this but have been meaning to get into blogging for quite awhile. Please bear with me while I get used to this.

I will post some of my children's poetry here and am quite happy to take your comments. Please try not to be too harsh.

Cheers
Lynn