by Paul Whybrow
Making Up Stories
I like writing stories,
Poems are good fun.
I make up songs,
And sing them too.
Saying silly rhymes,
Puzzling out riddles,
And memorising limericks
I concentrate and giggle.
Reading makes me sleepy,
Some tales are rather sad.
Others make me feel good,
And some drive me quite mad!
I'm not that keen on scary stories,
But don't mind a bit of a fright.
As long as there's a happy ending.
I don't want to be awake all night.
We write essays for school:
What we did at the weekend.
Where we went on holiday.
Why I want to go to the moon.
My mind is full of fresh ideas.
I need to write them down,
Or they'll escape and fly away.
They'll be useful one day.
When I need to think of something
For a fresh story that I'm creating
About a character a bit like me.
I'll look at my notes, and there it will be.
The idea that I thought of before,
When I was feeling quite inspired.
There to help me out when I need it,
When I'm stuck and rather tired.
Mum likes reading what I write.
It makes her very proud of me.
She sticks my poems on the fridge
With the pictures that I drew.
So when I tell her tall tales,
And bend the truth a bit,
She can't say to me with a frown
“Are you making up stories?”
Of course I am!
Count-down, Count-up, Count-down.
10—You're asleep on the sofa
9—I sneak into the room
8—You snore gently
7—I stand next to you
6—I tickle your ear lobe
5—You snort and frown
4—I slip an ice-cube inside your shirt
3—You grimace and wince
2—You pat the cube freezing your chest
1—You open your eyes and glare at me
1—I run from the room
2—You run after me
3—You promise to get me back
4—The ice-cube's in your hand
5—I'm really going to get it
6—I laugh out loud
7—You roar your annoyance
8—My shirt's grabbed from behind
9—Ice slips down my back
10—I scream at the shock
10—We run into Mum
9—She holds us both tight
8—The ice falls on the floor
7—We pretend not to see it
6—She starts to tell us off
5—You slip the ice into her shoe
4—She screams out with laughter
3—She hops over to the fridge
2—She gets several ice cubes
1—We run away like crazy
0—Blast-off! We're such a mad lot!
Ducks, Swallows and Cats
Ducks are happy. Watch them quack,
Flapping wings and splashing water.
Heads held down and stubby tails up,
Searching for food beneath the ripples.
Chasing bread crumbs thrown for them.
Waddling through the grass hunting worms.
Swallows are happy. Watch them scream,
Scything wings slicing up the sky.
Heads held out and forked tails spread,
Searching for food within the breeze.
Chasing insects flying away from them.
Diving low to the grass, hunting midges.
Cats are happy. Watch them miaow,
Blurring their legs and watching the sky.
Heads gazing up and tails held up high.
Hunting for birds that fly through the air.
Chasing ducks flapping away from them.
Sneaking in the grass, dived at by swallows.
Hold Onto Yourself!
The world's fallen out from under me.
I'm zooming upwards like a rocket
On this powerful fairground ride.
My heart is in my mouth. Who knows
Where the rest of me has gone?
Hold onto yourself,
Hold onto yourself
You don't want to lose
Your bits-and-bobs.
I'm whirling tightly round and round,
Spinning in dizzy-making circles.
Twisting in wavy, trembly ways.
I hold onto someone's shaky hand
As I stagger off the next scary ride.
Hold onto yourself,
Hold onto yourself
You don't want to lose
Your bits-and-bobs.
Now we're on the ghost-train
Trundling through the dark.
This isn't quite so terrifying,
But a spooky spirit just screamed
In my ear, making my skin crawl.
Hold onto yourself,
Hold onto yourself
You don't want to lose
Your bits-and-bobs.
This bumper-car is well named.
I've been knocked and biffed
By cars from left and right,
Front and back—some I saw coming,
Others took my breath away.
Hold onto yourself,
Hold onto yourself
You don't want to lose
Your bits-and-bobs.
Let's calm down on the roundabout.
My horse is called Happy Harry.
He's gold, with white mane and tail.
He gently canters up and down,
In a gentle circle gliding around.
Hold onto yourself,
Hold onto yourself
You don't want to lose
Your bits-and-bobs.
Tracks In The Snow
It snowed last night.
The world turned white.
All was hidden deep
While we lay in sleep.
Our boots made a mark
We could see in the park.
Deep tracks sunk through
Offered us many a clue.
Of what happened around,
Usually unseen on the ground,
All showed up in the snow.
Tracking prints we did go.
Rabbits left a long dent,
Their back legs lent
Right through the flakes,
Gentle hops they'd take.
Little mice dotted steps
On wandering trips,
Over the top of crust,
Made hard by the frost.
But here a mouse died,
Under wings spread wide,
An owl fell from the night
Too quickly to take flight.
The owl patterned a white fan
Of wings, where the mouse ran.
Grabbing it with talon prick,
Sna
tching it up with sharp beak.
Under a tree a fox stood,
Her tracks show her mood.
How she watched a bunny
That belonged in her tummy.
Little doily wings and claws
Hopping, mixed with paws.
Small birds searched beside
Animals, ranging far and wide.
Looking for food, something to eat
Hidden beneath snow, ice and sleet.
How horrid to be out in such cold,
In the frozen and merciless wild.
We could go home and get warm.
Follow our tracks back to the farm.
Before we trekked there, down we lay
Flat on our backs, looking up at the sky.
Spreading our wings wide, arm beats
Flapped a pattern into snow drifts.
Sweeping legs through the snow
An angel's dress slowly did grow.
Impressed in the white
Our snow angels stood bright.
In a line they would guard
Woodland creatures cold and tired.
What's Up?
(for two voices)
What's up?
Why do we say that?
I don't get it….
Get what?
Here I go again….
Where are you going?
Stop pulling my leg.
You'll fall over if I do.
I'll put my best foot forward.
The left or the right?
The longest journey begins with one step.
And they end that way too—so what?
I'm chasing my tail here.
What'll you do when you catch it?
Many hands make light work.
But too many cooks spoil the broth.
I can't see the wood for the trees.
You'd better touch wood for luck.
You might be the cuckoo in the nest.
Don't count your eggs before they hatch.
I just wanted to know why 'what's up'?
And you're answering me in riddles,
Contradicting me for fun and games.
I don't understand what's going on anymore.
I'm confused.
I don't know
What's up.
Oh….
If I Were An Animal
If I were an animal,
I'd be a dog and run around
Barking and playing,
A silly, contented hound.
If I were an animal,
I'd be a cat, fluffy and warm.
Sleep all the time, only waking
To eat in my lovely safe home.
If I were an animal,
I'd be an eagle and fly high.
Through the clouds I'd soar.
Mighty, majestic up in the sky.
If I were an animal,
I'd be a sheep, woolly and white,
Chomping on juicy green grass.
Doze through the dark starry night.
If I were an animal,
I'd be a golden horse, gallop here
And there, wherever I wanted to.
Jumping high hedges without fear.
If I were an animal,
I'd be a tiger in jungle wild.
Handsome, stripy and roaring.
Creatures would run when I smiled.
If I were an animal,
I'd be an owl, alone and wise.
I'd live in a tree hollow, hooting
Through the night, scaring the mice.
If I were an animal,
I'd be a whale, roaming the sea.
Diving down with all the fish.
Singing my sad song so sweetly.
Whiskers
Why don't I have whiskers?
Like my cat, white and springy,
Sticking out under her velvet nose.
Wider than her pretty furry face.
They help her find her way
Through the narrowest gaps.
Touching either side, she knows
If she'll fit through, even in the dark.
Our dog has whiskers on his muzzle,
Black and pointy,under his dimpled nose.
They help him find things in tall grass,
Like when he's searching for his ball.
Even our gold hamster has little whiskers.
Tiny pale hairs beside her pink button nose.
She wiggles them while watching me,
And when sniffing for food in the straw.
I'd find a set of whiskers really useful.
I could tell when a bag of crisps was empty.
Sneak through doorways when it's night.
Wiggle them when I talk to someone I like.