S is for Smelly Sonnet

Today in Rena’s AtoZ Poetry challenge it is S is for Sonnet! Possibly one of the hardest forms I’ve tried so far. The serious ones are totally beyond me. I have to read them twice just to get a basic understanding. Read all about them here where poet and writer Linda J. Pedley gives us a wonderful example.







Poop Sonnet

Doth no one dare write ‘poop’ anymore?
T’is all my six year old talks about.
Is it too cliche? Been done before?
All the poop stories have been worn out?
Well, I’ve got news for you today,
This subject be a bottomless pit.
Stash your embarrassment far away,
to the naysayers I say sniff it.
Done deeds by the dog may poof and whiff,
but written with pictures bright they glean
a sense of odour strong, scratch ‘n’ sniff.
Smelly and stinky beats things clean.
How I might persuade you all to stray,
go forth now with stinky thoughts and play.

As far as sonnets go this is really crap (pun, pun!)


N is for Nature

It’s Nature day today in the AtoZ Poetry Challenge so I hope my morning dog walks in the park can pay off now. I am learning that sharing poetry is the end in itself, and the journey is a delightful one. (That’s not the poem lol). Being a Capricorn, I seem to write poetry from the kiddy goat side and the fishes tail side. Does anyone else find that?






N is for Nature


The Nature of Us

Rest in the nest,
find comfort there, be still.
The flighty bird, unsettled, untamed,
swoops into trouble, landing in a strange nest,
tossed into a barren stillness, unlike home, unlike him.

Lest the nest be like the rest,
we have to test the nest the best.
Tressed and dressed, to pass the test,
no rest until the best impressed.


K is for Kids and a Woof! Woof!

It’s Day 12 in Rena Traxel’s AtoZ Poetry Challenge and today is K is for Kids. If you check out Rena’s blog post you will discover an amazing online tool where you can mix and match words to make a poem, how cool! I think I’m addicted already. I accidentally made one up about a dog, so I may as well show you the dog poem I wrote a few days ago and the Little Red Riding one since dogs are like wolves, well it’s a loose enough link lol.

“Little Red, Little Red,
Fancy a dinner for two?
Oops I mean one.
one caped crusader,
one juicy cherry from the tree,
one red berry
is good enough for me.”

“What juicy cherry?
To whom am I speaking?”

Wolf popped out of the toaster
and Little Red did not want to get buttered too,
so she flew,
’cause she knew
wolf was trouble.

“Oops!” said Wolf.
He remembered to peek,
but he forgot to sneak
to granny’s house
down by the creek.

Granny’s are smart,
she raced through the wood,
with hair net in hand,
and covered Wolf’s face,
like a wild hog caught in a net.
Wolf ran around
arms flailing like branches in the wind,
and to his great surprise,
Little Red showed up
and caught him in her cape.

Granny pulled out a muffin
and gave it to Wolf to eat.
“Yummy!” he said, “What’s in it?”

Wandering free as a bird in Spring time
Going for walk with the family,
Sniffing at the smells on the ground, all around here,
Wagging my tail as I chat with my doggy friends.
Pant! Pant! Waggle! Waggle! Lot’s to explore here.
Sniff! Sniff! Chase! Chase! squirrels galore.
Scampering along is my favorite pastime,
Tramp across bridges then dart up the stairs.
Pant! Pant! Wiggle! Wiggle! Time to go home now.
Woof! Woof! Wag! Waggle! See you all soon.
And today’s is:

Dog walk

Magic Word
Green dance,
Long grass,
Dog do,
Dog dirt,
Perfume stinks,
Ferocious fool,
Wild away,
Up to,
No good,
Porcelain look,
Liquid eye,
Young thing,


AtoZ Poetry Challenge: Day 4 Eastersaurus

It’s day four of Rena Traxel’s AtoZ Poetry challenge and here is my last minute effort. I’m not sure if it fits the trimeter or not. Here goes:


Did you see Eastersaurus? A marvellous bird,
He hatched from an egg made of chocolate and curd.

He was named Eastersaurus when born Easter morn,
The first thing he ate was some crackers and corn.

He spat it all out and he ran to the yard,
where children were hunting and working real hard.

A scavenger hunt for the most Easter eggs,
they ran round in circles and tripped over legs.

Well that Eastersaurus he flapped and he cawed,
he trilled and he thrilled and he loudly guffawed.

The kids all fell silent, now stopped in their tracks.
They grabbed one last egg and ran off with their sacks.

Well young Eastersaurus he started to sing,
of heaven and Jesus and other church things.

The children returned and they learned quite a lot,
that Easter was more than the eggs that they got.

They sang with the bird and they went for a ride,
all sat on his back on this fine Eastertide.

They scattered their eggs to their friends down below,
and called to the children, “It’s Easter you know!”

The next year, they waited and hoped they would see
the same Eastersaurus that filled them with glee.


Patchwork Poem

I’m posting my poems for AtoZ challenge all over the place, but this one requires a picture so I’ll post it here. Sorry for over-posting folks! I’ll save my 11 questions and Sunshine Award until after April me thinks (so much going on!) I love trying out patchwork poems, using lines from different published poems to form a new poem. Let’s see what I can find!

Photo by Rena Traxel

‘Is this Young Beichan’s gates?’ she says.
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
And it’s rather dark in here.
When all the citizens retire.
Shall we be trotting home again?
O red fruit; ivory, fine timbers!
And sooth my troubled mind
And still on a winter’s night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
through the fog it came
the guests have all left (unless they are buried)
Then she stopped, where the first trout lilies of the year had sprung from the ground with their spotted bodies and their six-antlered bright faces and their many tongues.
Small grains in a stone grow edges that twinkle.
stained and lost through age.
The kettle-drum, and far-heard clarinet,
with harmony divine.
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live.
And the Lord upon the Golden Horn is laughing in the sun.

Please don’t ask me about each line, I’ll never find the poems again. I used MacMillans Treasury of Poetry for Children, One Hundred favourite poems, Francis Mayes The Discovery of Poetry, all the small poems and fourteen more, Why I Wake Early by Mary Oliver, Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein.