Poems To Ponder

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by Paul Whybrow


Poems To Ponder

  12 Thoughtful and Fun Poems for Children

   

   

  Paul Whybrow

   

   

  Copyright 2014 Paul Whybrow

   

   

  Published by Paul Whybrow

  (Originally written and published under the pen-name

  Augustus Devilheart)

   

   

  Cover Art: Public Domain

  Poems To Ponder

  12 Thoughtful and Fun Poems for Children

   

   

  License Notes

   

   

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold

  or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person,

  please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did

  not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and

  purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work

  of this author.

  Poems To Ponder

  12 Thoughtful and Fun Poems for Children

   

   

  Disclaimer

   

   

  This book is a work of fiction. While some of the place names are real, characters are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Poems To Ponder

  12 Thoughtful and Fun Poems for Children

   

  'To be unsure is uncomfortable.

  To be certain is ridiculous.'

   

  Chinese proverb.

   

  Table Of Contents

   

  The Poems

   

  I Hate Laces!

   

  My Cat Licks Things

   

  Monsters Hate My Mum

   

  My Imaginary Friend

   

  Climbing Trees

   

  What's So Funny About That?

   

  Hiccups

   

  Fibs and Lies

   

  Big Black Birds

   

  That's Rather Grim

   

  Being Little Is Useful

   

  Something In The Dark

  The End

  About The Author

  Also by Paul Whybrow

  Novellas

  Short Stories

  Song Lyrics

  Poetry

  Novels 

  Connect with the author

  Poems To Ponder

  12 Thoughtful and Fun Poems for Children

  Paul Whybrow

   

   

  I Hate Laces!

   

  Who invented laces?

  Some great twit!

  What's the point of floppy string

  that goes through tiny holes?

  Isn't there an easier way

  to tighten-up my shoes?

  Haven't they heard of buttons?

  Zips are easy peasy!

  Velcro is a breeeeeeze!

  But no, I'm expected to tie a knot,

   that looks like a tired butterfly!

  An acrobatic twirling of flat thread,

  which muddles up my poor young head!

  I really, really, really hate laces!

   

  My Cat Licks Things

   

  My cat licks everything!

  It licks the milk from its saucer,

  Squidgy tinned food from a bowl.

  Dirty rainwater from puddles,

  my strawberry Angel-Delight!

  It licks its fur clean,

  and its dirty paws.

  My cat, it licks my fingers,

  just to say hello.

  It licks my nose

  after a friendly head butt,

  then flicks its tail at me.

  That silly cat licks blades of grass,

  but catmint drives it nutty!

  It quite likes chicken gravy,

  though custard is the best.

  Its tongue has lots of prickles,

  which must mean lots of tickles….

  Perhaps that's why it licks so much.

  But even so, I'm shocked to say,

  It even licks its you-know-what

  and right up that place too!

  That's really rather yeucky!

  My cat licks everything!

  Monsters Hate My Mum

   

  There's Squeaky Furry Monster

  that lives beneath my bed.

  I think it's hiding from my Mum

  who could hoover up a storm.

  Spiders and dust bunnies flee

  fearfully—her nozzle probes away.

  She sucks the very life from them

  and they end up in her bag.

  The monster's hiding behind

  the bed leg until she goes away.

   

  There used to be Creak-Monster

  who lived beneath the stairs.

  It whined as we climbed up and down,

  a-treading on its sore and aching head.

  But Mum, she flicked her duster round,

  squirting air-freshener here and there,

  choking the poor creature,

  as it's quietened down a lot.

  It must still be holding its breath,

  waiting for the air to clear.

   

  Our garden-shed once housed Mildew Monster,

  till Mum splashed bleach and varnish around.

  I quite liked its stinky pong of damp and rot,

  the way it felt so old, worn-out and friendless.

  Mould meant character, but Mum chased that away.

  It's spick and span there now, smells brand-new,

  enough to turn that monster's face quite blue.

  It must be hiding under the garden path,

  on some green and wormy paving slab.

  Who knows if it will venture back?

   

  I could tell you what my Mum did to Oven Monster,

  which honked a bit of thick brown grease,

  but that might scare you quite a lot.

  For hot-water, stiff brushes and acid-foam

  are all involved—she doesn't muck about!

  With rubber gloves and safety glasses,

  she could tackle the fiercest mucky fiend.

  What chance did it stand, scoured to nothingness?

  It lives down the dark plug-hole now,

  in the safety of some dank plumbing pipe.

   

  My Mum, she busts Monsters for a living,

  and for fun too—she's a real expert, that's true.

  There's none of them can resist her cunning,

  bravery and cleaning tools—she's got the lot!

  I wonder what they say, when she's not around?

  They probably quake, tremble, sweat and plot

  of ways to hide to escape her eagle-eye.

  But that will never happen, she's much too sharp.

  Mum's giving me a bath tonight—she calls me

  "Her Little Monster"—help me please!

   

  My Imaginary Friend

   

  I didn't do it—it was him!

  I'm a good boy, really,

  It's him does bad things.

  I was tidying up my room,

  while he picked the petals

  off all of your prize tulips,

 
and laid them on the path.

  But I'm the one you punished,

  while he stood in the garden

  laughing at us both.

   

  He's not always a naughty boy.

  We play Cowboys and Indians

  together, taking turns to win.

  We race cars around the floor,

  and sometimes Smarties too,

  flicking them with our fingers—

  we eat the loser each time.

  His paper aeroplanes fly

  further than mine, but that's

  alright, for he's my best friend.

   

  I think that he's good company,

  for I don't have any brothers,

  and friends are hard to make.

  And what with having twin sisters,

  I need all of the help I can get.

  I'm rather outnumbered by females

  and Dad's away at work a lot.

  I make do with what I've got, explore

   the world with my invisible friend.

  I know that he'll always be there.

 

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