Hi,
I got a new Ukulele for Christmas from my wonderful wife. This will hopefully make travelling on Buses a bit easier...
I decided to record my new toy and the result can be viewed underneath... Hope it is enjoyed.
Showing posts with label Children's Poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Children's Poem. Show all posts
Monday, December 28, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Christmassy Verse 2
The Beard that saved Christmas
Mr Turnwinter’s beard
Is exceptionally famous hair.
The beard is worshipped and beloved
By Children everywhere.
Because one year it saved Christmas,
When accidentally
Santa shaved his beard off and needed
It replaced quickly.
Santa felt naked without his beard
It distinguished him.
He couldn’t leave the North Pole
Sporting a beardless Chin.
So he sent his elves on a mission
To find a look-a-like who’ll
Lend Santa their beard and restore
The jeopardised Yule.
So they found Mr Turnwinter
Who had based his look
Upon that of St Nicholas
After reading a book.
And he was happy to oblige
St Nick’s request
And Christmas therefore was restored
And Santa went on with his quest.
So things turned out well and
It wasn’t as bad as was feared
And on the cover of every magazine now
Is Mr Turnwinter’s beard
Mr Turnwinter’s beard
Is exceptionally famous hair.
The beard is worshipped and beloved
By Children everywhere.
Because one year it saved Christmas,
When accidentally
Santa shaved his beard off and needed
It replaced quickly.
Santa felt naked without his beard
It distinguished him.
He couldn’t leave the North Pole
Sporting a beardless Chin.
So he sent his elves on a mission
To find a look-a-like who’ll
Lend Santa their beard and restore
The jeopardised Yule.
So they found Mr Turnwinter
Who had based his look
Upon that of St Nicholas
After reading a book.
And he was happy to oblige
St Nick’s request
And Christmas therefore was restored
And Santa went on with his quest.
So things turned out well and
It wasn’t as bad as was feared
And on the cover of every magazine now
Is Mr Turnwinter’s beard
Christmassy Verse 1
Polly the Christmas Panda
Whilst Juggling 7 Kumquats
On a cold December night.
I got the inspiration about a
Poem I should write,
About an iconic Christmas figure
Who is overlooked a lot,
But I consider her the best
Christmas icon we have got.
We always hear of Santa Clause,
The Grinch, Scrooge Ivy and Holly,
But it seems we do ignore
The Christmas panda Polly.
Yes Polly the Christmas Panda, she’s
As Christmassy as can be
When it comes to spreading joy
No one’s as good as she.
She wears her Christmas clothing,
And does her Christmassy things
And all those Christmas Carols
Are the only things she sings.
We need to hear more about her
I hope you all agree
I hope this poem balances out
The ignoring that we see.
So whether your name be John,
Stacey, Tony or Amanda
Let us never forget about
Polly the Christmas Panda.
Whilst Juggling 7 Kumquats
On a cold December night.
I got the inspiration about a
Poem I should write,
About an iconic Christmas figure
Who is overlooked a lot,
But I consider her the best
Christmas icon we have got.
We always hear of Santa Clause,
The Grinch, Scrooge Ivy and Holly,
But it seems we do ignore
The Christmas panda Polly.
Yes Polly the Christmas Panda, she’s
As Christmassy as can be
When it comes to spreading joy
No one’s as good as she.
She wears her Christmas clothing,
And does her Christmassy things
And all those Christmas Carols
Are the only things she sings.
We need to hear more about her
I hope you all agree
I hope this poem balances out
The ignoring that we see.
So whether your name be John,
Stacey, Tony or Amanda
Let us never forget about
Polly the Christmas Panda.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
London Olympics 2012
Wow, Has it not been a long time since I Blogged? Well it could have been longer, maybe I could have left it a day, or a month, or a year... Is there anyone analysing my time on this Blog?
Well anyway I've had nothing to say... Still haven't if truth be told, but I will post a poem that I have written especially to commemorate the Olympics in London 2012... I hope it is enjoyed.
London 2012
The Olympic Games from London
Start tonight at Twelve Past Eight.
I’ll be in front of the TV
And I won’t be a second too late.
I thought that they’d start yesterday,
But they did not arrive
And I got to the TV early,
At least quarter past five.
I sat there all the night
Flipping channels just to see
The Olympic games from London
Opening ceremony.
My Mother says I’ve misunderstood,
But the signs they clearly state,
London Games: 2012, although
It doesn’t mention a date.
Well anyway I've had nothing to say... Still haven't if truth be told, but I will post a poem that I have written especially to commemorate the Olympics in London 2012... I hope it is enjoyed.
London 2012
The Olympic Games from London
Start tonight at Twelve Past Eight.
I’ll be in front of the TV
And I won’t be a second too late.
I thought that they’d start yesterday,
But they did not arrive
And I got to the TV early,
At least quarter past five.
I sat there all the night
Flipping channels just to see
The Olympic games from London
Opening ceremony.
My Mother says I’ve misunderstood,
But the signs they clearly state,
London Games: 2012, although
It doesn’t mention a date.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Thursday, September 18, 2008
My Dentist
A bit of Poetic Humour for you...
My Dentist
My Dentist was in a boyband
Before he studied teeth
And, believe me, now he’s a dentist
It really is a relief.
You see the boyband he was in
We’re one of the worst around
A review described them as Awful,
With a really horrible sound.
Whenever they’d perform live
You’d hear the audience say
“Please stop them someone, someone please
Make the noise go away.”
They realised this and they split up
And he went off to train
To be a dentist where he
Produces a lot less pain.
So everyone’s pleased he’s no longer
A member of that boyband
As he’s a lot less feared now
Even when he has a drill in his hand.
My Dentist
My Dentist was in a boyband
Before he studied teeth
And, believe me, now he’s a dentist
It really is a relief.
You see the boyband he was in
We’re one of the worst around
A review described them as Awful,
With a really horrible sound.
Whenever they’d perform live
You’d hear the audience say
“Please stop them someone, someone please
Make the noise go away.”
They realised this and they split up
And he went off to train
To be a dentist where he
Produces a lot less pain.
So everyone’s pleased he’s no longer
A member of that boyband
As he’s a lot less feared now
Even when he has a drill in his hand.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
No Excuse
My, it has been a long time since I've Blogged... And I have no excuse as to why...
It's not as if I can use the excuse that I have nothing to say, as I never have anything to say... most of my blogs are about nothing in particular...
Although there is lot's going on in my life at the moment... Many Stand-Up gigs and I have a full Children's Books Festival coming up in October...
Oh well I'll try and do better in future... Any way, I've been messing around with a digital camera and this is what I have come up with...
Hope it is enjoyed...
It's not as if I can use the excuse that I have nothing to say, as I never have anything to say... most of my blogs are about nothing in particular...
Although there is lot's going on in my life at the moment... Many Stand-Up gigs and I have a full Children's Books Festival coming up in October...
Oh well I'll try and do better in future... Any way, I've been messing around with a digital camera and this is what I have come up with...
Hope it is enjoyed...
Monday, May 26, 2008
The Bod Delusion
I have realised that I have been deluding myself all these years…
Bod is a boy… I used to watch Bod religiously as a young child and I have believed since those days that Bod was a Girl…
And today, quite by accident, I found out that Bod was in fact a boy.
I think the main reason that I was under the assumption that Bod was in fact a girl, was because he wears triangle shaped attire and as a child, all female drawings by myself were attired the same way… (See Illustration)
All the years I’ve wasted believing this, I will never ever get back… So I will have to finish with a poem about another female who knows what she wants.
Please Call me Sue
The little Girl at number two
Said to me one day, “Please call me Sue.”
I replied, “Why should I do that?
After all your name is Pat.”
She said, “My parents gave me that name.
I would never have chosen the same.
I think it’s rude, I feel insulted,
That I was never ever consulted.
After all it is me who’ll have the strife
Of living with this name for the rest of my life
So I believe it would have been fair
If a decision is made that I should have been there.
The only reason as to why I wasn’t confided
Is because I was to young when the name was decided
But if they had named me temporarily
We could have changed it to what I wanted when I turned three
But now Pat is permanently my name
And my parents are to blame.
I want to be called Sue that’s what I have planned,
After the singer from my favourite Pop Band.
Besides what has it got to do with you?
If I ask you, then please call me Sue.”
Bod is a boy… I used to watch Bod religiously as a young child and I have believed since those days that Bod was a Girl…
And today, quite by accident, I found out that Bod was in fact a boy.
I think the main reason that I was under the assumption that Bod was in fact a girl, was because he wears triangle shaped attire and as a child, all female drawings by myself were attired the same way… (See Illustration)
All the years I’ve wasted believing this, I will never ever get back… So I will have to finish with a poem about another female who knows what she wants.
Please Call me Sue
The little Girl at number two
Said to me one day, “Please call me Sue.”
I replied, “Why should I do that?
After all your name is Pat.”
She said, “My parents gave me that name.
I would never have chosen the same.
I think it’s rude, I feel insulted,
That I was never ever consulted.
After all it is me who’ll have the strife
Of living with this name for the rest of my life
So I believe it would have been fair
If a decision is made that I should have been there.
The only reason as to why I wasn’t confided
Is because I was to young when the name was decided
But if they had named me temporarily
We could have changed it to what I wanted when I turned three
But now Pat is permanently my name
And my parents are to blame.
I want to be called Sue that’s what I have planned,
After the singer from my favourite Pop Band.
Besides what has it got to do with you?
If I ask you, then please call me Sue.”
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Poetry Now Festival
Had an exceptionally wonderful Poetry Now Festival, if anyone is interested, even if you aren't it was still a success. A very different experience to other festivals I've done. I was on a bill, it was in a theatre, I was required to attend a sound-check ½ an hour before my performance.
Myself and George Szirtes read to around 300 extremely well-behaved 8-11 year olds who asked questions and were exceptionally enthusiastic… Overall it was fantastic seeing so many Children into poetry and enjoying the experience… Comments were made on this subject by the many festival organisers and the whole programme, lasting weeks, was put together by Children's Author Lucinda Jacob, who did a wonderful job… My poems about football went down really well, although not the fact that I support Tottenham Hotspur...
On the first night we got there, we joined all the other poets and the various organisers, judges etc, for a wonderful pre-arranged dinner, talking with poets and thinkers, I felt quite out of place, but the food was nice. Then we attended Ruth Padel giving the keynote address regarding the importance of the tussle between thought and sound that is the heart of a poem.
My reading was the following day in the morning, and afterwards I was feeling exceptionally good, that not even certain attitudes of some panel members in the live debate, 'Who reads Poetry Anyway' could depress me. There were some unfortunate attitudes about young people not being important in the future of Poetry amongst other things…
We had our second poetic ensemble meal at the GastroPub on Friday afternoon… It was a very pleasant experience apart from the fact that Cork born poet Bernard O'Donoghue kept pinching my wife's chips…
The Festival ended for me by seeing Seamus Heaney and CD Wright read, Smoking a Cigar and chatting to various people in the bar, Sleeping, eating breakfast and then leaving the hotel and cursing the fact that we weren't staying for the Saturday and Sunday to see more readings/events.
The festival was a wonderful experience where myself and my wife met many wonderful people and was topped off with a wonderful reading to the Children…
Of course the Panel aren't the only people to be dismissive of poetry for Young people, The Irish Times, who are associated with the event, had an article on Thursday about the festival without any mention of the Children's reading. Maybe the Journalist, Fiona McCann, felt poetry for Children, especially comic/nonsense verse, was beneath her to mention… Who knows?
Myself and George Szirtes read to around 300 extremely well-behaved 8-11 year olds who asked questions and were exceptionally enthusiastic… Overall it was fantastic seeing so many Children into poetry and enjoying the experience… Comments were made on this subject by the many festival organisers and the whole programme, lasting weeks, was put together by Children's Author Lucinda Jacob, who did a wonderful job… My poems about football went down really well, although not the fact that I support Tottenham Hotspur...
On the first night we got there, we joined all the other poets and the various organisers, judges etc, for a wonderful pre-arranged dinner, talking with poets and thinkers, I felt quite out of place, but the food was nice. Then we attended Ruth Padel giving the keynote address regarding the importance of the tussle between thought and sound that is the heart of a poem.
My reading was the following day in the morning, and afterwards I was feeling exceptionally good, that not even certain attitudes of some panel members in the live debate, 'Who reads Poetry Anyway' could depress me. There were some unfortunate attitudes about young people not being important in the future of Poetry amongst other things…
We had our second poetic ensemble meal at the GastroPub on Friday afternoon… It was a very pleasant experience apart from the fact that Cork born poet Bernard O'Donoghue kept pinching my wife's chips…
The Festival ended for me by seeing Seamus Heaney and CD Wright read, Smoking a Cigar and chatting to various people in the bar, Sleeping, eating breakfast and then leaving the hotel and cursing the fact that we weren't staying for the Saturday and Sunday to see more readings/events.
The festival was a wonderful experience where myself and my wife met many wonderful people and was topped off with a wonderful reading to the Children…
Of course the Panel aren't the only people to be dismissive of poetry for Young people, The Irish Times, who are associated with the event, had an article on Thursday about the festival without any mention of the Children's reading. Maybe the Journalist, Fiona McCann, felt poetry for Children, especially comic/nonsense verse, was beneath her to mention… Who knows?
Friday, March 28, 2008
Poetry Now
Friday 4th April 2008, is the day that I will be doing my reading as part of the DLR Poetry Now Festival (www.poetrynow.ie). That’s right, it’s getting closer and I have been looking forward to it since I found out about it in January…
Therefore there is something ironic about the title of the festival… It is indicated within the title that the Poetry should be straight away… Right Now… no waiting… yet I have been looking forward to this for almost three months now and my anticipation has been getting higher and higher…
As my life is one long search for irony, I have decided that I am going to commemorate this in verse and present it to the Children I read to as part of the festival… I will put it as part of my blog when this has been achieved…
For the time being I will leave you with the following poem…
Miniature Melanie from Melton Mowbray
Miniature Melanie from Melton Mowbray
May have been small but she could really play
A mean game of football. She played in the park
With her friends, Michael, Matthew and her brother Mark.
More and More people came to join in,
But they’d get upset as her team always did win.
And they couldn’t believe that this small female
Showed such great skill that they all did fail
To take the ball off her, she just couldn’t be caught,
If she was in danger, as a last resort,
She could run through their legs, due to her size
And she’d be away before her opponent would realise.
But the fact that her team was always triumphant
Didn’t always work out the way Melanie did want
Sometimes no one would turn up at all
And all she wanted to do was to play football.
So she goes home and is upset,
But she has a plan that she uses to get
The boy’s playing football with her again,
She plays really badly on purpose and then
They are all happy and after a while
Melanie decides it’s time to turn on the style.
She plays really well and it always does seem
That the best team to play for is Melanie’s team.
But the other team soon get fed-up of losing,
So not playing football’s the decision they are choosing.
So Melanie play’s badly again and I think it’s a shame
That she has to do this just too get a game.
Therefore there is something ironic about the title of the festival… It is indicated within the title that the Poetry should be straight away… Right Now… no waiting… yet I have been looking forward to this for almost three months now and my anticipation has been getting higher and higher…
As my life is one long search for irony, I have decided that I am going to commemorate this in verse and present it to the Children I read to as part of the festival… I will put it as part of my blog when this has been achieved…
For the time being I will leave you with the following poem…
Miniature Melanie from Melton Mowbray
Miniature Melanie from Melton Mowbray
May have been small but she could really play
A mean game of football. She played in the park
With her friends, Michael, Matthew and her brother Mark.
More and More people came to join in,
But they’d get upset as her team always did win.
And they couldn’t believe that this small female
Showed such great skill that they all did fail
To take the ball off her, she just couldn’t be caught,
If she was in danger, as a last resort,
She could run through their legs, due to her size
And she’d be away before her opponent would realise.
But the fact that her team was always triumphant
Didn’t always work out the way Melanie did want
Sometimes no one would turn up at all
And all she wanted to do was to play football.
So she goes home and is upset,
But she has a plan that she uses to get
The boy’s playing football with her again,
She plays really badly on purpose and then
They are all happy and after a while
Melanie decides it’s time to turn on the style.
She plays really well and it always does seem
That the best team to play for is Melanie’s team.
But the other team soon get fed-up of losing,
So not playing football’s the decision they are choosing.
So Melanie play’s badly again and I think it’s a shame
That she has to do this just too get a game.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
A poetic example
An example of the sort of work I write poetically...
Raining In The Library
How on Earth can this possibly be?
It’s raining in the Library.
How can this be happening?
Whoever heard of such a thing?
It shouldn’t rain when you’re indoors,
But in this Library it pours.
Now all the books they will be wet
And the readers will be so upset.
Who would have thought that you would be needing
An umbrella when you came in to do some reading?
I don’t know how this is, to tell you the truth,
Maybe there’s a hole in the roof.
I really, really can’t explain,
Why in this Library it does rain.
Maybe it’s my imagination.
Maybe that’s the only explanation.
But until I’m sure the rain has stopped.
Under the table is the position I will adopt.
Raining In The Library
How on Earth can this possibly be?
It’s raining in the Library.
How can this be happening?
Whoever heard of such a thing?
It shouldn’t rain when you’re indoors,
But in this Library it pours.
Now all the books they will be wet
And the readers will be so upset.
Who would have thought that you would be needing
An umbrella when you came in to do some reading?
I don’t know how this is, to tell you the truth,
Maybe there’s a hole in the roof.
I really, really can’t explain,
Why in this Library it does rain.
Maybe it’s my imagination.
Maybe that’s the only explanation.
But until I’m sure the rain has stopped.
Under the table is the position I will adopt.
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