Poetry Carin

 Turvy-Topsy ‘Gentlemen and Ladies, all and one, Let’s have a little games and fun. I’ve noticed that the things we say, Sound wrong if said a different way. I’ve never wandered forth and back, Never been beaten blue and black. And through my life, large and by, I’ve yet to be left dry and high. Error and trial, punishment and crime, It’s go and touch, again and time. My fortunes are not down and up. I never drink from a saucer and cup. No pepper and salt upon my dish Of bacon and liver or chips and fish . . . Under key and lock . . . Order and law . . . All bothered and hot . . . Peace and war . . . Simple and pure, though it may sound dull, It’s how it sounds makes it void and null You shouldn’t mix pleasure with business: The bees and the birds with the m & s. Mind your qs and ps come shine or rain, And try not to get it wrong again. Cos, wrong or right, to return to food; ‘Where’s the fork ’n knife?’ just sounds kind of rude.’ From Poems to Save the World With ‘A small dragon’ by Brian Patten This speaks to me of belief and trust and wonder. A small dragon I’ve found a small dragon in the woodshed. Think it must have come from deep inside a forest because it’s damp and green and leaves are still reflecting in its eyes. From Read Me: A Poem for Every Day of the Year 

Sick “I cannot go to school today," Said little Peggy Ann McKay. “I have the measles and the mumps, A gash, a rash and purple bumps. My mouth is wet, my throat is dry, I’m going blind in my right eye. My tonsils are as big as rocks, I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox And there’s one more--that’s seventeen, And don’t you think my face looks green? My leg is cut--my eyes are blue-- It might be instamatic flu. I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke, I’m sure that my left leg is broke-- My hip hurts when I move my chin, My belly button’s caving in, My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained, My ‘pendix pains each time it rains. My nose is cold, my toes are numb. I have a sliver in my thumb. My neck is stiff, my voice is weak, I hardly whisper when I speak. My tongue is filling up my mouth, I think my hair is falling out. My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight, My temperature is one-o-eight. My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear, There is a hole inside my ear. I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what? What’s that? What’s that you say? You say today is. . .Saturday? G’bye, I’m going out to play!”

No one can tell me, Nobody knows, Where the wind comes from, Where the wind goes. It's flying from somewhere As fast as it can, I couldn't keep up with it, Not if I ran. But if I stopped holding The string of my kite, It would blow with the wind For a day and a night. And then when I found it, Wherever it blew, I should know that the wind Had been going there too. So then I could tell them Where the wind goes… But where the wind comes from Nobody knows.

Waiting At The Window A. A. Milne By A. A. Milne More A. A. Milne These are my two drops of rain Waiting on the window-pane. I am waiting here to see Which the winning one will be. Both of them have different names. One is John and one is James. All the best and all the worst Comes from which of them is first. James has just begun to ooze. He's the one I want to lose. John is waiting to begin. He's the one I want to win. James is going slowly on. Something sort of sticks to John. John is moving off at last. James is going pretty fast. John is rushing down the pane. James is going slow again. James has met a sort of smear. John is getting very near. Is he going fast enough? (James has found a piece of fluff.) John has quickly hurried by. (James was talking to a fly.) John is there, and John has won! Look! I told you! Here's the sun! A. A. Milne. "Waiting At The Window." Family Friend Poems, https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/waiting-at-the-window-by-a-a-milne

Being Brave At Night Edgar A. Guest By Edgar A. Guest More Edgar A. Guest The other night 'bout two o'clock, or maybe it was three, An elephant with shining tusks came chasing after me. His trunk was wavin' in the air an' spoutin' jets of steam An' he was out to eat me up, but still I didn't scream Or let him see that I was scared - a better thought I had, I just escaped from where I was and crawled in bed with Dad. One time there was a giant who was horrible to see, He had three heads and twenty arms, an' he came after me And red hot fire came from his mouths and every hand was red And he declared he'd grind my bones and make them into bread. But I was just too smart for him, I fooled him mighty bad, Before his hands could collar me I crawled in bed with Dad. I ain't scared of nothin' that comes pesterin' me at night. Once I was chased by forty ghosts all shimmery an' white. An' I just raced 'em round the room an' let 'em think maybe I'd have to stop an' rest awhile, when they could capture me. Then when they leapt onto my bed, Oh Gee! But they were mad To find that I had slipped away an' crawled in bed with Dad. No giants, ghosts or elephants have dared to come in there 'Coz if they did he'd beat 'em up and chase 'em to their lair. They just hang 'round the children's rooms an' snap an' snarl an' bite An' laugh if they can make 'em yell for help with all their might. But I don't ever yell out loud. I'm not that sort of lad, I slip from out the covers and I crawl in bed with Dad. Edgar A. Guest. "Being Brave At Night." Family Friend Poems, https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/being-brave-at-night-by-edgar-albert-guest

Halfway Down A. A. Milne By A. A. Milne More A. A. Milne Halfway down the stairs Is a stair Where I sit. There isn't any Other stair Quite like It. I'm not at the bottom, I'm not at the top; So this is the stair Where I always Stop. Halfway up the stairs Isn't up And isn't down. It isn't in the nursery, It isn't in the town. And all sorts of funny thoughts Run round my head. It isn't really Anywhere! It's somewhere else Instead! A. A. Milne. "Halfway Down." Family Friend Poems, https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/halfway-down-by-a-a-milne