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Bonfire Night

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As we celebrate bonfire night
Let us remember when it all began
Guy Fawkes tried to blow up Parliament
The government of the day was not a fan

His attempt to destroy failed
For his treachery he was hung
Today we all celebrate bonfire night
With everyone having lots of fun

With fireworks and sparklers
Jumping jacks, bangers and mushy peas
The fire burning lightening up the sky
See the rockets flying over the trees

The smell of bonfire toffee
Fireworks displaying so bright
The fire well alight now
Lightning up the darkest night

Remember to be careful
For fireworks can burn and maim
Let your parents light them all
Keeping all away from hurt and pain

Malcolm G Bradshaw

Poppy and the ladybird

 

As Poppy was flying through the trees,

A cry for help was heard

Upon the leaf of a dandelion

She saw a tiny ladybird

Poppy settled down beside the ladybird

To find out what was wrong

The ladybird answered tearfully

All of my beautiful spots have gone

They were stolen by a pixy

When I was fast asleep

Poppy was quite angry

For she knew it was Pixy Pete

He was always being mischievous

So poppy sought the help of a friend

She asked Elvis the elf for assistance

To bring Pete’s thieving to an end

They scoured the forest together

They found Pixy Pete, who looked quite pale,

He was so sorry for his actions

But alas he was put into jail

All the spots were recovered

And taken back to the ladybird

Who was deliriously happy?                                         

As for Poppy, three cheers could be heard.

Malcolm G Bradshaw

Don’t Worry, Kid – Promote Yourself

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I shed my skin many years ago.

At the back of those high trees in junior school.
That never ever seemed to grow gold in autumn.

It’s still there I bet – petrified. Old. stone skin.
Knees supporting a chin somehow still held high.
With a muddy arse on blooded school trousers.

Just still lacking whatever that place kept
Telling me I lacked.

We are different people him and I
He is my Bukowski’s bluebird
The boy I nurture and protect. As me and my own.

No one sees him – no one hurts him.

Only problem is –
He tells me what he used to tell everybody
“I’m fine, nothing to worry about, I just fell over”

I wish I didn’t know any different.

-Christopher Flame

christopherflame.wordpress.com

September

The month of September

Is the month I remember

Of the honeysuckle aroma so sweet

Farmers harvesting their wheat,

The month of September

Is the month I remember

When shorter days are to come

Darkness starves the early morning sun,

We pluck the apples from the trees

We prepare for our Xmas cider feast,

The month of September

Is the month I remember

No perspiration falling now

No hot sun,hitting our brow,

I glance at the beautiful landscape

It is one that God could only create

Gillian Sims

Daffodils: A poem by William Wordsworth – Your favourite poem

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I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

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