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A Bit of a Problem by John Kitching 
I love my teacher
I'm going to marry her one day.
But, as I'm only half her age,
¡¥That's quite absurd,' you'll say.
It's not as silly as you think.
Reflect upon my words:
If she can wait eleven years,
The fraction is two thirds.
If Miss can be quite patient,
Like any good man's daughters,
And wait eleven short years more,
I'm catching up, three-quarters.
If life is only long enough,
Before we leave the stage
I will have married lovely Miss
And we'll both be the same age!
How old am I?
A SLASH OF BLUE by Emily Dickinson
A slash of Blue-
A sweep of Gray-
Some scarlet patches on the way,
Compose an Evening Sky-
A little purple ¡V slipped between
Some Ruby Trousers hurried on ¡V
A Wave of Gold ¡V
A Bank of Day ¡V
This just makes out the Morning Sky.
I fear it's very wrong of me
And yet I must admit
When someone offers friendship
I want the whole of it.
I don't want everybody else
To share my friends with me.
At least, I want one special one,
Who, indisputably
Likes me much more than all the rest,
Who's always on my side.
Who never cares what others say,
Who lets me come and hide
Within his shadow, in his house-
It doesn't matter where-
Who lets me simply be myself,
Who's always, always there.
I Saw a Ship A-Sailing by Anon
I saw a ship a-sailing,
A-sailing on the sea,
And oh but it was laden
With pretty things for me.
There were comfits in the cabin,
And apples in the hold;
The sails were made of silk,
And the masts were all of gold.
The four-and-twenty sailors,
That stood between the decks,
Were four-and-twenty white mice
With chains about their necks.
The captain was a duck
With a packet on his back,
And when the ship began to move
The captain said Quack! Quack!
Solo was a Dodo
the last one in the land.
She didn't go to parties
or dance to birdland bands.
She hadn't got a partner,
she hadn't got a friend,
until ¡V
she met a Panda
a Pandaman called Ben.
Will you dance with me? asked Solo
Can we be a party pair?
Will you take a sprig of blossom
Will you hold me very tightly?
upon your hairy chest?
The woodland flutes played softly,
the evening sang its charms
to a Panda dancing slowly
with a Dodo
in its arms.
It's easy ¡V modern art is.
Anyone can do it.
Monkeys can do modern art
toads in holes
and cows with paintbrushes
tied to their tails.
A dog could do modern art.
Rats,
cats,
rabbits,
and dead dinosaurs.
Even storks with chalks
and hens with pens
could do modern art.
It's almost as easy as writing poetry
that does not
scan
span
or even rhyme properly
Or is't spelt rite.
Know what I meen?
Have you ever heard Mouse laugh?
You'd be surprised.
It doesn't sound as you'd suppose.
No it doesn't.
No squeaks, no twitterings,
No pussy-footing around.
More of a belly laugh, really.
Like the trumpeting howl of an elephant
Thudding across the parched plains of Africa,
Or the deep-throated rumble of the earth
At its centre.
You needn't believe me, of course.
But, next time you meet Mouse,
Don't tickle him.
Ocean Travel by Jennifer Tweedie
If I could travel
the oceans blue,
these are the things
that I would do:
Fly with the puffins
under the sea.
Dive with the seagulls.
Fish for my tea.
Cling to the tail
of a rolling whale.
Leap with dolphins
in a buffeting gale.
Soar with an eagle.
Hunt with a shark.
Frolic with seals.
Fly home before dark.
This poem
is written on very fine paper
fold it
into small birds
and let them fly down the face of the mountain
and maybe the wind
will carry them back to me
or make an origami boat
set it afloat in the clear cold spring
which bubbles from the silent rock
amid those strange and lovely blossoms
you speak of. Let it sail down to the valley
and maybe the sea
will carry it back to me.
PEARLS by Jean Little
Dad gave me a string of pearls for my birthday.
They aren't real pearls but they look real.
They came nested in deep, deep blue velvet
in a hinged box with a silvery lid.
His sister had some like them when she was my age.
She was thrilled.
He really thought I'd like them.
I said I did.
I love the box.
There's a dragon in our garden
That hatched out under the shed,
Her scales are shaped like teardrops
And glow when she's been fed.
She sleeps all through the daytime,
Wings folded like a bat,
Gold and green and dreaming
And purring like a cat.
But she's getting wild and restless
So she'll fly away quite soon
To the only place
Where a dragon's still safe:
Deep inside the moon.
Somewhere in the Sky by Leo Aylen
Somewhere
In the sky,
There's a door painted blue,
With a big brass knocker seven feet high.
If you can find it,
Knock, and go through-
That is, if you dare.
You'll see behind it
The secrets of the universe piled on a chair
Like a tangle of wool.
A voice will declare
¡¥You have seven centuries in which to unwind it.
But whatever
You do,
You must never,
Ever,
Lose your temper and pull.'
THERE WAS ¡K¡K By Matt Simpson
A horrible smell in the hallway,
A terrible stink up the stair,
A dreadful stench on the landing,
A stink-bomb pong in the air,
A particularly nasty aroma,
An odour to make you feel sick,
A pong to punish your nostrils,
A smell all putrid and thick.
It was as gross as rotted bananas,
As foul as the corpse of that rat
In the cupboard underneath the stairs
Once brought in by the cat.
I rushed out into the garden,
I made it pretty snappy!
Mum was up in the bedroom, yuck,
Changing the baby's nappy!
An invisible web,
as fragile as dreams,
links mountains to forests
and rivers to streams.
Through woodlands and forests;
where seas flow and ebb,
over ice caps and deserts,
life weaves a great web.
From plankton to whales,
all life great and small
depends on each other.
Life's web links us all.
And we must take care
of each gossamer thread,
for we are all part of
this great world wide web.