The Land of Grimney - The Illustrated Adventures of Cora Pearl, aged 12

Little Star.

Little star
Shining bright
Though unseen
Except at night

Jealous clouds
Try to hide you
While eager eyes
Try to spy you

Frosty midnight
Open sky
You're seen by those
With sleepy eyes

Little star
Shining bright
Bathes the world
In long - dead light.

R.I.P. Kettle.

The kettle is crying
It's feeling old
It's water is lukewarm
Or even stays cold

The plug ignites
In a miniature flame
And my poor little kettle
Will never be the same.

This one's called CAKE. It's written from the perpective of a hungry young lass from the North of the country.

CAKE
It weren't the very biggest, or the one with all the cream,
It weren't the one with icing, like a sculpture makers dream.
It weren't the one with marzipan or jam or strawberry flakes
But what it were, it were the cake he gave me by mistake.

'Cause what was this he passed across the counter like a twit?
Where was the sticky chocolate sauce I'd dreamt would cover it,
Where was the soft, warm sponge inside, where were the chocolate chips?
What sad and sorry disappointing anti-cake was this?

Not even one sad cherry sat upon it's flattened top
Where once the cherry'd sat was now a grubby, yellow spot,
And nowhere was there evidence of almonds or of jam
Just a dry and crumbling biscuit sat offending in my hand.

'But MR! That's the one I want, that strawberry chocolate one,
The one with all the icing, look, that lovely, sticky bun!!
Please take this back, it's horrid and think I see a hair
I really couldn't eat it if the cat has been back there!'

He looked at me with pity, I could see it in his face
He looked and me and then I knew I'd made a big mistake
With only 50p to spend such choice was but a lie
That's why the cake I left with was a badly made mince pie.

_________________
http://www.missdemena.co.uk

What’s the Letter?

‘What is the letter?’ asked Billy of Sam,
‘Mrs Pitkin, she told me, whenever I am
Sad or upset, to make me feel better,
I must write a poem, a story or letter.

A poem is hard, I am no good at spelling
And my stories are rubbish and not worth the telling,
So a letter it is, but I really don’t see
Which one will do the trick, now I’m stuck, please help me.’

‘X marks the spot.’ Sam looked puzzled and grim,
A?’s what you say when you’re holding your chin,
B-ing and C-ing are things that we do
And S,K and H are no good to U.

D is the name of a day in the war
And R is the noise that you make when you’re sore.
P–ing and Q-ing will help you along
But F-ing and blinding is terribly wrong.

VW is a beetle-like car,
Keep your NMEs close so you know where they are.
I believe it is time for some cake and some T
And a Zed in the sun, or should that be some Zs?

J is a bird and L is a measure,
O,G! now we’ve found it, the answer, the treasure!
There’s only one left and it’s now clear to me
Which letter will make you feel better, you see

It’ll give you the answer to what’s made you sad
And help you to figure out what’s made you mad.
It’s Y is the question and clearly the letter
To use when you want to be sure to feel better.’

Billy looked glad and relieved , just a bit.
‘Y is the answer, you’re right, that is it!
Well Sam,’ he said, ‘You are terribly clever
I think we’ll be friends now for ever and ever!’

_________________
Nydas
http://www.walkerbroad.co.uk
http://www.thesanitycompany.co.uk/

Don't worry Tanza, burple rules!
It really doesn't matter.
We're all a little crazy,
Don't believe me?
Ask the Hatter!!

_________________
http://www.missdemena.co.uk

But what if everyone was mad
Who would keep us in order?
And when I play the birdie song
On my best friend's recorder

Would people phone the doctor quick
To lock me up forever
Or would they want to hear my tune
And think I was so clever?

We'd all dance round like sillly girls
And have ourselves a party
But not dress up like slags or sluts
We wouldn't be so tarty

I guess there are no answers to
A question that's so silly
And nobody would want to see us
In our frocks so frilly

I'd better go and rest my head
It's full of stupid stuff
I'd sit and brush my purple hair
If I hadn't shaved it off

:-/

Excellent rhyme,
It made me smile
Your words are true and fair!
I wish that I could see your purple scalp,
Now without hair

_________________
http://www.missdemena.co.uk

I really really want to hear a hiccup burple!

_________________
Nydas
http://www.walkerbroad.co.uk
http://www.thesanitycompany.co.uk/

Tanza looks like the Yabnab. I bet Tanza burples rather a lot, and quite loudly I would imagine. Good to see a bit more chat, and more poems!