Children’s Poetry
Gaynor’s poetry has appeared in The Caterpillar magazine and on the Dirigible Balloon website. You can read some of her poems here.
Two of her poems featured in the Dirigible Balloon’s first anthology Chasing Clouds: Brilliant Adventures in a Poetry Balloon. Two more will appear in the second anthology Sky Surfing: Excellent Adventures in a Poetry Balloon.
Mary Had a Little Lamb (The Lamb, The Duck and The Goldfish)
Mary had a little lamb.
Her sister had a duck.
Her brother had a goldfish bowl
In which his head got stuck.
Mary’s mum cried, ‘Get it off!
He needs to get some air.’
So, Mary and her sister pulled –
The lamb just didn’t care.
They pushed and tugged till from the bowl
Her brother separated.
Mary’s mum was quite relieved
To see her son aerated.
Mary said, ‘I’ll make some tea
And bring you out a cup.’
Her sister’s duck came waddling past
And ate the goldfish up.
What is Poetry?
Do poems rhyme?
Well, some of the time.
Sometimes, poems bounce along,
A leaping, skipping, hopping song.
And then again, in others’ hands,
They sway and saunter, meander and retreat.
Some are short. To the point. A punchline
To make us laugh.
Sometimes, evoking donkey rides,
And tea and toast, and homecomings.
Or season’s end, decay and death and yearning.
Some tell stories, rollicking yarns
Of highway men and railway cats.
Others are impenetrable as swirling mists.
And though their meaning hides behind obscure words,
Our hearts race.
Cutie-Fruitie
Apricots are tasty,
Apples have a crunch,
I’m the cutie-fruitie.
I’m the sweetest of the bunch.
Oranges are orange,
Blueberries are blue.
I’m a ruby-fruitie
And delicious through and through.
Blackberries in hedges
Pick them if you please.
I’m a cutie-beauty
And I dangle from the trees.
Have you guessed me yet?
Ripened by the sun,
I’m a juicy-fruitie
And I’m loved by everyone.
Queen of springtime blossom,
Cream of any crop.
Truly cutie-fruitie,
I’m the CHERRY on the top.
Going Camping
‘Fiddlesticks and flippers!’ said Coraline to Jack.
‘We’re going on this camping trip, and I forgot to pack
my toothbrush and my towel. And did I bring the soap?
Wait a minute. I’ll just check. Have I got it? … Nope!
‘Daisy chains and doughnuts! I didn’t bring spare socks.
I meant to bring my flashlight too but left it in its box.
I didn’t bring the frying pan, the sausages, the cheese,
the camping stove, my bedding roll … How could I leave all these?
‘I think I left the tent pegs in the kitchen by the door.
It doesn’t matter, ‘cos I left the mallet on the floor.
Pepperpots and pumpkins! Of all the things I meant
to bring with me, how could I leave my brand new camping tent?
‘Oh, Jack! We should have made a list of all the things to pack!’
But Coraline had no reply ...
She’d forgotten to bring Jack.
Frost
The artist trails his brush,
silvering the tips of the grass blades,
shakes sparkles into the dark,
rims the ribs of fallen leaves.
Then painstakingly,
breathtakingly,
exquisitely
etches the panes with feathery ferns
Daytime’s Story
Daybreak glows,
Pink and rose.
Morning new,
Sky stretched blue,
Yellow rays, golden days
Plips and plops, silver drops,
Purple shadows gently play
Daylight hours slip away
Red and orange sunset glory
Softly closes daytime’s story
Grey shades, colour fades
Evening falls,
Black calls.