Another silly poem, born out of the question that popped into my head while doing literacy with my year 1 kids and discussing crazy things that could happen at school. What if...
When a monster came to our school
It was a beautiful sunny spring morning,
and the flowers were shining with dew,
as I walked to my school after breakfast
none the wiser of what would ensue.
My best friends all waved as I got there,
As we dumped our school bags on the ground.
But just as we readied the first football’s kick
We saw everyone else had turned round.
And what a sight we found!
A boy, not much older than I am,
I think he was seven or eight
Was hopping along through the playground,
On one foot as he juggled 3 plates!
It was then that I suddenly noticed
Was that a tail that poked out from his shorts?
And there, could it be, oh my word, tee hee hee!
His knees were covered in warts!
And his hair flowed all golden and wavy,
From his head to his waist, tied in knots.
And lower than that, hidden under his shoes
He wore bright pink polkadoc socks!
None of us spoke in amazement,
This was just so incredibly cool.
We had a new pupil, and none had a scruple:
A monster had come to our school!
He followed us into our classroom
As the bell went at twenty to nine.
And proceeded to hang up his bag on a seat,
And sit down on the wall next to mine.
The teacher, Miss Jones, didn’t see him
As she called out our names one through all.
And nearly flew out of her chair when she heard
Our new monster reply from the wall!
As the morning progressed, then we noticed,
He never once reached for a pen.
Instead he picked up a window
And with a chair leg he wrote there and then!
At break time, he eyed up out football,
So we invited our new friend to play.
But he ran on his toes, and with his elbows
he played as if doing ballet!
During science he scared Mr Creacher,
When he ate up three test tubes like bread.
Without so much as a pause he devoured the gauze
And then sat on the ceiling out-spread.
At lunch time, this peculiar monsterish child
Sat to eat with us in the canteen,
And ate all the spoons from cutlery drawer
So with fingers we ate our ice cream!
In music he sang like a rubber,
And smiled as we all played kazoos,
Then before our very eyes, and to the teacher’s surprise,
Played his nose like a didgeridoo!
At home-time, we stood in suspense,
While our monster friend sat on the ceiling,
Wondering who was the mum on this unusual son.
Our nerves we were barely concealing!
Then out to the playground we streamed,
each of us keeping an eye
on our new special friend, ‘who’s his mum?’ ‘Is it Len’s’?
the questions flew fast ‘cross the sky.
He hopped on his hands to his mother,
And through the gates they departed the fray.
What a shock! Who’d have known, for there, walking alone
By his side was the head teacher. No way!
Any thoughts, please do let me know :) My poems can always be improved and any suggestions would be fab!
TheWeeScottie
---------------------------------------------------------------
weird is just your own personal brand of normal
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
The terror of Armreach farm
1 month in hiding, mostly due to forgetting my blog exists at times and finding other exciting and interesting things to do :) school work for one! Below is one of a series of poems I've written recently: random poems about silly things, and some nonsense poems inspired by my Year 1 kids' work on nonsense poetry. I'll post 'When a monster came to our school' soon. I just need to iron out kinks first.
See if you can guess what the 'beast' is before the last verse!
The terror of Armreach farm
I looked out on the moonlit farmyard
The sky like a tranquil lagoon,
The wind moved the leaves in a nearby tree,
The moon would be rising soon.
And still as the gravestones, it waited,
Its heart dark as the deep night sky
Ready to spring and swift mayhem to bring
When the moon stood complete, and high.
And quiet asleep in their stalls now,
The animals slumbered in peace.
From the gold eiderdown of the small of ducks
To the shimmering sheeps’ winter fleece.
And still as the mountains, it waited,
Its heart like the indigo sky
Ready to spring and swift mayhem to bring
When the moon stood complete, and high.
I opened the door with shiver.
I guess where the beast might be.
In truth I knew not, of his new hiding spot,
So I waited, resting on one knee.
And still as a statue, it waited,
Its heart dark as blackcurrant pie,
Ready to spring and swift mayhem to bring
When the moon stood complete, and high.
As midnight tolled out ‘cross the farmyard,
An unearthly silence swift fell,
And the dull ghostly tones of the ancient clock’s groans
Rang out 12 times, it beast’s deathly knell.
And slow as the ages, it wakened,
Beating heart as adrenaline flowed,
And fast through its mind, with chaotic thoughts,
Its fancies began to unfold.
Quick as a whippet I looked up,
A shadow had stirred to the side.
In the stable I saw, darker than there before,
A deep shadow’s malevolent eyes.
And unmoving, the shadow stood staring,
Unaware of my foolhardy plan,
No mere man, it believed, could prevent him,
Once its frenzied assault began.
Like lightning the beast sprang towards me,
Its hooves like the thundering of drums.
I knew only one move would save me this night,
Or else, to its fury, succumb.
And fast as the planets it bolted,
For the ground to which I was firm bound.
My hand swiftly reached for my tattered coat pouch,
And flung its contents to the ground.
The screeching of hooves was tremendous,
As I breathed, barely making a noise.
Would the beast take the bait, precious seconds to wait,
And let me spring out of my poise?
And careful, it sniffed at the truffles,
Shrewd wariness clear in its eyes.
Did it trust in this treat, would it leap for my feet?
When it lowered its tree-like thighs.
My lunge was as quick as a cheetah,
as bold as a school-teacher’s stare,
the beast looked up but too late now,
its squealing shattering the air.
And frenzied, the beast struggled madly.
With its tail thrashing wide through the air,
Til the moon was consumed by a nearby cloud,
And still was the beast’s bristled hair.
The sweat glistened fresh on my forehead
As I stooped to retrieve the still form.
And shouldering the beast with a weary grunt,
I crossed the now quieted farm.
The main barn door creaked as it opened,
As if knowing what lay in my arms,
And the straw crackled loud, as if cheering
My saving the farmyard from harm.
Yet I gently replaced the wee bundle,
Knowing soon I would face it again.
For the moon was the curse of this small sleeping form:
A monster within the mundane.
And so it repeats, every cycle,
As the moon becomes fuller each day.
I silently wait in the dark twilit yard,
For the twelve bells to summon my prey.
The sound of the low shallow grunting
As that swill-laiden smell cuts the air,
And I whisper ‘goodbye’ to the red beady eyes
Of the Were-Piglet. ‘Were’, piggy, ‘were’.
Any thoughts greatly appreciated. It is far from perfect I know, but then, it is just a bit of fun!
TheWeeScottie
---------------------------------------------------------------
weird is just your own personal brand of normal
See if you can guess what the 'beast' is before the last verse!
The terror of Armreach farm
I looked out on the moonlit farmyard
The sky like a tranquil lagoon,
The wind moved the leaves in a nearby tree,
The moon would be rising soon.
And still as the gravestones, it waited,
Its heart dark as the deep night sky
Ready to spring and swift mayhem to bring
When the moon stood complete, and high.
And quiet asleep in their stalls now,
The animals slumbered in peace.
From the gold eiderdown of the small of ducks
To the shimmering sheeps’ winter fleece.
And still as the mountains, it waited,
Its heart like the indigo sky
Ready to spring and swift mayhem to bring
When the moon stood complete, and high.
I opened the door with shiver.
I guess where the beast might be.
In truth I knew not, of his new hiding spot,
So I waited, resting on one knee.
And still as a statue, it waited,
Its heart dark as blackcurrant pie,
Ready to spring and swift mayhem to bring
When the moon stood complete, and high.
As midnight tolled out ‘cross the farmyard,
An unearthly silence swift fell,
And the dull ghostly tones of the ancient clock’s groans
Rang out 12 times, it beast’s deathly knell.
And slow as the ages, it wakened,
Beating heart as adrenaline flowed,
And fast through its mind, with chaotic thoughts,
Its fancies began to unfold.
Quick as a whippet I looked up,
A shadow had stirred to the side.
In the stable I saw, darker than there before,
A deep shadow’s malevolent eyes.
And unmoving, the shadow stood staring,
Unaware of my foolhardy plan,
No mere man, it believed, could prevent him,
Once its frenzied assault began.
Like lightning the beast sprang towards me,
Its hooves like the thundering of drums.
I knew only one move would save me this night,
Or else, to its fury, succumb.
And fast as the planets it bolted,
For the ground to which I was firm bound.
My hand swiftly reached for my tattered coat pouch,
And flung its contents to the ground.
The screeching of hooves was tremendous,
As I breathed, barely making a noise.
Would the beast take the bait, precious seconds to wait,
And let me spring out of my poise?
And careful, it sniffed at the truffles,
Shrewd wariness clear in its eyes.
Did it trust in this treat, would it leap for my feet?
When it lowered its tree-like thighs.
My lunge was as quick as a cheetah,
as bold as a school-teacher’s stare,
the beast looked up but too late now,
its squealing shattering the air.
And frenzied, the beast struggled madly.
With its tail thrashing wide through the air,
Til the moon was consumed by a nearby cloud,
And still was the beast’s bristled hair.
The sweat glistened fresh on my forehead
As I stooped to retrieve the still form.
And shouldering the beast with a weary grunt,
I crossed the now quieted farm.
The main barn door creaked as it opened,
As if knowing what lay in my arms,
And the straw crackled loud, as if cheering
My saving the farmyard from harm.
Yet I gently replaced the wee bundle,
Knowing soon I would face it again.
For the moon was the curse of this small sleeping form:
A monster within the mundane.
And so it repeats, every cycle,
As the moon becomes fuller each day.
I silently wait in the dark twilit yard,
For the twelve bells to summon my prey.
The sound of the low shallow grunting
As that swill-laiden smell cuts the air,
And I whisper ‘goodbye’ to the red beady eyes
Of the Were-Piglet. ‘Were’, piggy, ‘were’.
Any thoughts greatly appreciated. It is far from perfect I know, but then, it is just a bit of fun!
TheWeeScottie
---------------------------------------------------------------
weird is just your own personal brand of normal
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