Category Archives: Poetry

Haikulity

The Man from Barton-

On-Sea, interrupted me,


with haikulity.

The Incredible Growing Poem

Once,

It’s said,

long ago,

and far away,

there lived a bad troll;

although, he never swore,

ate people, stole things, or burped;

so he wasn’t really that bad.

It’s all black and white

‘It’s black and white’ said Grae.

‘What is?’ asked Daisy May.

‘Grey’, said Grae,

‘mix one with t’other,

and what do you get?’

‘Fifteen shades of grey?’ queried Daisy May.

‘At least, if not more – I heard, once,

that there could be as many

as twenty-four.’

‘Wow!’ said Daisy May, ‘That information

has made my day.’

And, so enlightened,

she carried on upon her way.

Three Little Ducks – Mob Barley

Don’t worry about a duck,

Cause every little duck gonna be all right.

Singin: don’t worry about a duck,

Cause every little duck gonna be all right!

Rise up this mornin,

Smiled with the risin sun,

Three little ducks

Pitch by my doorstep

Singin sweet songs

Of melodies pure and true,

Sayin, (this is my message to you-ou-ou:)

Singin: don’t worry bout a duck,

Cause every little duck gonna be all right.

Singin: don’t worry (dont worry) bout a duck,

Cause every little duck gonna be all right!

Rise up this mornin,

Smiled with the risin sun,

Three little ducks

Pitch by my doorstep

Singin sweet songs

Of melodies pure and true,

Sayin, this is my message to you-ou-ou:

Singin: don’t worry about a duck, worry about a duck, oh!

Every little duck gonna be all right. don’t worry!

Singin: don’t worry about a duck – I won’t worry!

Cause every little duck gonna be all right.

Singin: don’t worry about a duck,

Cause every little duck gonna be all right – I won’t worry!

Singin: don’t worry about a duck,

Cause every little duck gonna be all right.

Singin: don’t worry about a duck, oh no!

Cause every little duck gonna be all right!

How High (Can a Butterfly Fly?)

How high?

Quite high?

Not very high at all?

Really high (higher than our garden wall)?

As high as in the film The Aeronauts’?

How high?

As high as an elephant’s eye?

High enough to watch the clouds go by?

Higher than a leaping building?

Higher than an all time low?

As high as an outfielder on grass, fielding?

Higher than a geographical lake – obviously an ox-bow?

How high can a butterfly

fly?

I ask, because,

I’ve just seen a butterfly

flutter by –

three feet off the ground.

Scarecrows in Fields

If I ‘start’ talking to scarecrows in fields,

then I may have just lost it;

however, if I just ‘continue’ talking to the scarecrows in fields…

… as I have done for many years…

who’s to say that I have become mad?

Company Bee

The bees do keep me company,

whilst I potter in the garden;

they bimble about,

as do I,

and when we meet,

it’s, ‘I beg your pardon.’

and we both bimble on

as before.