NOW CLOSED: Poetry writing competition with Nick Sharratt

Adventure.

Julius Caesar of long ago fame,
One morning decided to hop on a plane.

I'll just go and visit
Those isles in the North.
I'll be no trouble,
Just look round of courth.
(he had had a lisp since early childhood)

He took with him his teddy
So he could be ready,
With jim-jams and slippers,
To sup on some kippers.

Clean his teeth with a stick,
Give his face a quick lick.
Then curl up with Ted
In a warm leafy bed.

But then he got hungry
When lunchtime came round.
So abandoned his plan,
And ate pork pie with his Gran.

Like it, merlotgran!

Granny’s Protest.

I don’t know how it started but I’m really in a mood,
The washing up is waiting and the dogs both want their food,
Grandpa’s watching snooker and the ironing isn’t done,
Now it’s time I made a protest…..Maybe sulking could be fun.

So I’ve gone into the kitchen just to make a cup of tea,
I’m huffing and I’m puffing and I’m thinking about ME,
I want to watch the telly but it’s in the other room
And I can’t go in there smiling so I practice how to fume.

I make the dogs their dinner and I whisper, ‘There you go,
Grandpa mustn’t hear me talking cos I’m sulking, don’t you know?'
The phone has started ringing and I want to know who’s there
Only that would mean a chat so I pretend that I don’t care.

I start to bang some pots and pans to make my feelings clear,
It’s cosy by the fireside but now I’m stuck out here,
It’s time to cook the sausages, the ones we really like
But they’re staying in the fridge for now cos Granny’s out on strike!

This could go on for ages – I will have to learn the ways
To do a silent protest that can last for days and days
But I’m sick of this already - just can’t hack it any more,
Why has no-one ever told me that protesting's such a bore?

Stop don't pick your noise
and eat it mum shouts
I stop I pick I flick
Along came a fly
This will do the trick
He gobbled it down
With one big lick
Along comes a spider
Who eats the fly
Then takes a little
Walk outside
Along came a chicken
Looking for lunch
Oh a spider it says
You'll do for brunch
Dinner mum shots
Out from the kitchen
What is it I ask
Of course it's chicken

If I wake up in the middle of
The night,
And I see the lamp is
Shining bright,
I know that everything is
All right,
There is no cause at all for
Feeling fright!

-----------------------------
Leave The Lamp On,Mum! By rosesarered

MR MAZZEEN

Mr Mazzeen
Was ever so clean
He lived in a house
With a garden
His friend was a mouse
Called Kalamazoo
Whose whiskers were long
And quite shimmery

Mr Mazzeen
Was ever so clean
Even his garden was spotless
His flowers grew taller
With each passing day
And he polished them up with a duster
But Kalamazoo
Said 'This is so sad'
And his whiskers were long
And quite shimmery

Mr Mazzeen
Was ever so clean
He dusted his grass with a cloth
He wiped at each daisy
And rubbed at the clover
And Kalamazoo said 'You're mad!
'It's a garden, you numpty
Not Buckingham Palace'
And his whiskers were long
And quite shimmery

But Mr Mazzeen
Was ever so clean
And carried on dusting his garden
The cabbages shone
And the beans had a glow
And the radishes looked just like rubies
But Kalamazoo
Well, he just looked on
And his whiskers were long
And quite shimmery

Mr Mazzeen was ever so clean
The bees in his garden were perfumed
He sprayed them with scent
Wherever they went
And their wings were rubbed clean
With the duster
But Kalamazoo
Said 'You silly old thing'
And his whiskers were long
And quite shimmery

Mr Mazzeen
Was ever so clean
His garden had green caterpillars
He washed them each night
And hung them to dry
Where they sang to the moon until morning
But Kalamazoo
Raised his eyes to the sky
And his whiskers were long
And quite shimmery

Mr Mazzeen
Was ever so clean
He vacuumed his path every day
The postman wore slippers
To keep off the dust
And the garden stayed slippery clean
And Kalamazoo
Said nothing at all
And his whiskers were long
And quite shimmery

Then one day Mazzeen
Who was ever so clean
Decided to trim up those whiskers
He took out his scissors and opened the door
And looked out for Kalamazoo
But Kalamazoo was quicker than him
And hid on the roof of the house
So Mr Mazzeen, who was ever so clean,
Got out his ladder and searched
For that whiskery mouse, who lived in the house
That Mr Mazzeen kept so clean
But Kalamazoo was quicker than YOU
And slipped down the ladder so fast
And into the house, that very clean house,
That Mr Mazzeen kept so neat

And so, with his scissors, Mr Mazzeen
Was left in the garden alone
While inside the house
Old Kalamazoo
Was eating his chocolates and drinking his wine
And watching cartoons on TV
'I like this!' he cried
'I'm staying inside
And you, Mr silly Mazzeen
Can stay in your garden
And polish it up
And sweep up the leaves from the lawn
You'll not get my whiskers
I know they're too long
But you'll not tidy me up so fast
You stick to your garden, you silly old man
And I'll stick in here and have fun'

Well, Mr Mazzeen, who was ever so clean
Was tired of chasing the mouse
He drew up a deck chair and sat in the sun
And tried to decide what to do
He looked at his garden, all tidy and clean
The flowers all shiny and bright
And wondered if, really, he'd gone much too far
For gardens are meant to enjoy
The plants don't need polish
And insects enjoy
A little light dust on their wings
The grass looks no greener
For dusting each blade
And the daisies don't need a good shine

So Mr Mazzeen, who was ever so clean
Decided to stop being silly
He rapped on the window
And Kalamazoo
Switched off the TV and looked out
'What now?' cried the mouse
Coming out of the house
'You're not trimming up my long whiskers'
And Mr Mazzeen, who was ever so clean,
Gave mousie a hug and a cuddle
'Of course not, my friend
'I'm ever so sorry
'Your whiskers are quite safe from me
'I've decided from now
'I'll leave well alone
'And sit here and look at my garden'

'Hurrah!' cried the mouse, old Kalamazoo
'You know that makes so much more sense
'I'll sit out here with you and look at the plants
'And we'll sing to the birds and the flowers'

And his whiskers were long
And quite shimmery.

One, two, three four,
I would really like some more!
Five, six, seven eight,
There's nothing left upon my plate!
Nine, ten, eleven, twelve,
Guess I'll have to help myself!

--------------------------
Eating By Numbers by rosesarered

A little mouse
in purple pants,
he loved to sing,
he loved to dance,
but Mr Cat
had other ideas,
and grabbed little Mouse
Up by his ears.
"Gerroff!" Said Mouse
and stuck out his tongue!
And Mr Cat
Swiped at his bum!
"Now don't be rude!"
Said Mr Cat,
"Or I shall eat you!
How about that?"
Then mouse remembered,
what Mr Cat had done,
this was the beast
who ate his mum!
And Little mouse,
now paused for thought,
he'd never once
before been caught!
He said to Mr Cat
so sweetly,
"Oh Mr Cat, No
Please don't eat me!"
And Mr Cat
considered this,
put down little mouse,
and with a hiss.
said "Why shouldn't I?
you small tasty mouse!
There's nothing else
to eat in the house!"
And little mouse,
piped up once more,
and looking scared
at Mr Cats huge claws,
said "Mr Cat, if you please,
and you do your best
not to eat me, then
I will find you something nice!
Something that tastes
better than mice!"
And Mr Cat, who wasn't clever,
said "Fine then, but
don't you ever,
think I'm going to let you off!"
And he watched Mouse run
to find food to scoff!
Mouse had to think,
what could he do!
What food would
Mr Cat want to chew?
And then he saw,
a massive steak,
sizzling, only just been baked.
The Mouse grabbed hold
with his wee teeth,
and pulled it down
to underneath
the table where
Mr Cat was waiting,
and without any
hesitating,
Mr Cat ate, and chewed
and swallowed,
you would think
his belly hollow!
Then some funny
sounds were made,
Mr Cat was sounding grave,
he choked and spluttered,
coughed and gasped,
while little mouse
just stood and laughed.
Mr Cat spat out
"What have you done!"
Mouse said "This ones
for my poor mum!
You once ate her,
I can't forget her,
and now you won't
ever get better!
That steak was full of
rat poison,
I'm sorry but
I was her son!"
and Mr Cat
now nearly gone,
wished he'd left
the mice alone!

I see your smiling cheeky face Matt
everywhere I look,
I see your chubby cheeks rose red,
as you giggle over a book.
I see the gold tint in your dark hair,
and your happy eyes so blue,
I never knew I could love someone grandson,
as much as I love you.

I see your cutesy freckles Jordy,
my little grandson number 2!
My little gorgeous ginger lad,
a Nannys dream come true.
From your skinny little tummy
to your bright bright ocean eyes,
you were an unexpected
wonderful wee surprise!

And now to you, our pretty girl,
Our Roxy, so so sweet.
Your long Rapunzel hair swings free,
you make our life complete.
You with your beautiful husky voice,
always happy, laughing, singing,
do we ever tell you how much,
joy to me and your grandad you're bringing?

And lastly but not leastly,
Charlie completes the brood,
our feisty little blondey,
always in a chirpy mood!
You're laugh is so infectious,
as you giggle over funny words,
my littlest and my youngest grandaughter,
I love you so much it hurts!

So there you are, my gorgeous grandkids,
I couldn't love you more,
all thanks to your mum & daddy too,
The whole family I adore.
Your parents and you mean everything,
you are all my world,
my funny, sassy grandkids,
my bunch of gorgeous boys & girls. :-)

Some lovely poems here already . I love the one about Charlie.

Here's a little ditty in my Geordie vernacular, celebrating the recent first birthday of our Grandson Charlie.
Wor Charlie’s very forst birthda.
Wor Jenny was expectin’, and was very neahly due,
So wuh took her oot for some fresh air, a pleasant thing te do.
Wuh drove to Soutar Lighthoose,where wuh had a healthy stroll,
Those cleah blue skies and coastal scenes were good for heart and soul.
Wuh tire her oot, so take hor yem, and drop hor at hor door,
Shuh sez shuz gannin’ for a kip, shuz feelin’ tired an’ sore.
Wuh hope shuh hasn’t done too much, that baby’s almost due,
Shuh’ll need te rest te face the test , as days to go are few.
And so to bed, te rest wor head, but early in the mornin’,
She cahlls te say, shuz on hor way, that baby’s given warnin’.
The R.V.I. is where shuh gans, the speshull birthin’ suite,
Where twelve hours on, shuh greets hor son, hor happiness complete.
Wuh meet him too, at one day old, ah knah ahll bairns are cute,
But this one’s such a bonny lad, of that there is nee doot.
Shuh cahll’s wor Grandson “Charlie”, that’s a favourite faml’y name,
And as he grows, as heaven knows, wuh’ll nevvah be the same.
Each little thing he learns te dee, fills us with so much pleasure,
A smile, a laugh, a little wave, each moment is a treasure.
He’s mobile now, and demonstrates a fast commando crahll,
Wuh’ve had te move wor ornaments much higher up the wahll.
Ye hev te watch his progress as he scoots across those rugs,
As he’s keen on ahll wor wiring, and especially on plugs.
So ah pick him up for cuddles, an’ on that he seems quite keen,
As he jumps aroond and giggles on his private Grampoline.
A big thank you to his parents, wuh’re so pleased you made this lad,
This blessing sent from heaven makes wuh happy when wuh’re sad.
It’s so cleah how much yez love him, an’ as parents you’re the best,
When wuh see how much he loves yez back, wuh just hev te be impressed.
So it’s “Lots of love, wor Charlie”, on this birthday that’s yer forst,
Yer Granny an’ yer Granda are so proud wah’re fit te borst.
Wuh hope wuh stick aroond a while, te help ye through the years,
Wuh knah that life’s a mixture made of happiness and tears,
But rest assured wor bonny lad, wor love is strong and true,
As long as we are on this earth, wuh’ll be right here for you...

Doc's reply

An alcoholic rub indeed
I really don't advise
The courvoisier is better
Consumed by your insides
If however good brandy
Is really going spare
Pass it to your thirsty doc
Then for your knee she'll care

Hi Doctor. Can you spare a mo', to look at my left knee,
Giving me some awful pain, can hardly walk, you see!
I think it was last Friday, returning from the pub.
I tripped and hurt my ankle, so I sprayed it with a rub.
The pain is even worse, now, but with a bit of luck
I'll meet the guys next Friday, down at the Dog n Duck.

What you doing with that needle, Doc?
Don't point that thing at me.
It's not that blinkin' serious, I came about my knee!
No Way will you be using that! There are no ifs nor buts.
You can stick your precious needle
Where the monkey sticks his nuts!

I'm terrified of needles, so you haven't got a chance
Of stabbing it into my arm, nor even thro' my pants!
I'll have to take my chances that relief from pain is nigh.
The cure will be Courvoisier, as much as I can buy!

In case I get hungry, and sometimes I do,
one biscuit goes under my pillow to chew,
Two apples, and though a bit bumpy I find
To sleep on, I don't really mind,
Three toffees, the treacly ones, yum,
Are ready for my hungry tum,
Four iced fancies, yellow and pink,
Are my best favourites I think,
Five salted peanuts , last but not least,
Complete my private midnight feast!
-----------------------------------

The Pillow Feast by rosesarered.

Go for it phoenix. Having read the instructions again, it's supposed to be for GC, not about them (I got that wrong)!

Ana what I had in mind would, in it's own way be about grandchildren.

Ana my Scottish MIL also used to say "poym" which would make my children giggle into their hands.

It's supposed to be about our grandchildren though, phoenix - aren't they a source of happiness, despite other losses we may have suffered?

I'm no good at 'poytry' as my DH used to call it, but I look forward to reading other grans' efforts!

I'm very touched that you think of me that way, rosequartz !

When I first read the op, something did come to mind, I'm still mulling it over but feel that my initial idea may be a bit too dark and possibly "maudlin" as they say.

Gransnet has its own Poet Laureate

Where are you phoenix ?

bumblebee

Arrggghhh!! ... please ignore my post above! I thought it was ANY poem that we've come across, not one of our own. (Should have read the instructions more carefully ... must be my age!!)

Many apologies ... My OWN poem to follow - don't want to miss out on this fantastic competition, and what would be a truly awesome prize.

"Smile" by Anonymous.

Smiling is infectious
You catch it like the flu
When someone smiled at me today
I started smiling too

I walked around the corner
And someone saw me grin
When he smiled I realised
I had passed it on to him

I thought about the smile
And then realised its worth
A single smile like mine
Could travel round the earth

So if you feel a smile begin
Don't leave it undetected
Start an epidemic
And get the world infected.

Getting up time?

If it’s dark outside and the curtains are drawn,
It’ s probably still night.
If the house is quiet and the cat’s bedded down
It’s probably still night.
If there’s snoring sounds from Mum & Dad’s room
It’s probably still night,
And they get pretty grumpy when you want to get up
Before it’s even light.

But if you’re awake why stop in bed
Even if it’s night?
There are games to play and books to read
Even if it’s night.
Why would anyone want to sleep
Even if it’s night?
When they could be up and doing things
Before it’s even light.

Grownups always want to sleep
Whether it’s day or night.
And children want to play and sing
Whether it’s day or night.
Parents plead “Just another half hour ..”
Whether it’s day or night
Whoever devised the system
Did not get things quite right!

Words of Wisdom. To a Grandson embarking on a life of adventure. And stuff.

When you ride upon a horse,
Always check the brakes of course

If you insist on riding a goat
Just make sure it stays well afloat.

If one day a mountain you shin up.
And then it rains, you must keep your chin up.

And if on the way down,
Perchance you frown,
Just jump in a lake
And eat chocolate cake.

If some day a plane you should fly
And shortly after waving bye-bye,
Things become bumpy
You must never be grumpy.

The best thing to do,
In a hullabaloo
Is study your shoe
And hide in the loo.

Horse, goat, mountain, plane.
Then eat your dinner and come home again.