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the_________poem

I met you in a book
As well as captain hook
And i said to you
"you in the wrong book you silly old hook!
As this is a cook book!


I met you in a book you seemed mysterious!

You played in my imagination, then you suddenly came into reality.


You were a mole, I was suprised
You were no ordinary mole
You had business on your mind
and your head
I was lead
To read your story
To find out who really was the culprit
It's not nice. To have poo on your head.


Oh, introduce me to a spine-chiller thriller,
one featuring some supernatural killer.
And after the horror of such scary reading
if my heart is left hurting and bleeding
then tend it and mend it by making me swoon
with a moon-in-June romance from old Mills and Boon.


Yet such love is fleeting, and I move on to try
a few brief encounters with tales of sci-fi,
and next to a text about doctors and nurses,
a cursory look at a volume of verses,
a history-book dealing with war and who won it,
and on to a mystery concealing who done it.


Then saddle me up a slim paperback western.
I need to read only your gun totin' best 'un
where I'll meet a lawman who wears a tall stetson,
and bad-mouthing baddies who drink and lay bets on
poker-games, hoodlums who ride these wild pages
as bank-robbers holding up Wells Fargo stages.


Matilda was a very clever girl,
when she was three she learned to read,
and she had magic powers!




Peter Rabbit was very naughty bunny,
one day his mother said
you can go in the field down the lane to pick blackberries,
BUT you must never go into Mr. McGregor's garden!
But Peter who was very naughty ran straight
to Mr. Mc Gregor's garden and he squeezed under the gate!
First he ate some radishes
but after that he felt a little bit sick,
SO! he went away to find some parsley.
BUT! he ran straight into Mr. McGregor!
An Mr McGregor chased him all around the garden.
He shouted,"STOP THIEF! STOP THIEF!"
Peter lost his shoe!
He ran straight to the pond where
Mr McGregor filled his watering can.
There was a cat trying to get some goldfish.
He crouched down in the cabbage patch!
Benjamin bunny had told Peter that cats eat rabbits.
Peter scampered away as fast as he could
before the cat could see him.
He climbed on to the wheelbarrow
and then he could see the gate.
He broke a plantpot on the wheelbarroe
and Mr. McGregor saw him.
He ran all the way round the garden again
and squeezed under the gate.
Then he went home to his mum!


I met you in a book, a little yelow teddy.
You made me happy because you were funny!
When i was bored you were there,
always keeping me company.


Time is like a never ending dream,
it starts from the moment you're born
and fills every momnet of every day.
It can be wasted or used wisely,
it can be made exciting or drive you almost to dispair.
The most exciting time is the moment a child is born,
you feel like shouting from the top of a montain,
and letting everybody know!


I met you in a book on the first of march
I thought your book was a lark

You were funny when you mixed your potions and made your Marvellous Medicine


Mr. D'Arcy, tall, handsome, dark
Appearing in my dreams
but never in reality.+


She lived deep in the sea,
She was as happy as could be,
But she longed for dry land,
She longed for the sand,
And a handsome young male,
To sweep her off her tail !!


Safe at last snow capped mountions of Switzerland
food shelter,Mother and Father.


Poor Cinderella,
Had two horrible sisters,
And her mother was the worst!
Her Fairy God mother,
Helped her to go to the ball,
She lost her slipper
As she ran away,
And the Prince picked it up,
Tried it on her two horrible sisters,
But it did not fit!
So he tried it on Cinderella,
And it fitted -
And they lived happily ever after!




Little Miss Neat
Went on holiday
And Mr. Muddle came to visit.
And do you know what?
He put the tea - pot
IN THE REFRIGERATOR!!!
He put a cup in the oven,
And when Little Miss Neat came back
She sat on the knife and fork!
OUCH!!


I met you in a book and I thoroughly enjoyed your lifestory.
I found all your adventures really exiting and it was almost as though I were there.


i enjoyed this book
this book was about a girl who had the nickname
Andy
i thought this book was very funny


I have got a friend called Guestie
Who looked like a man called Lennie,


At the moment we are reading Chaucer. HOW BORING!!!!!!!


A .22 and a pony is what Jay Berry wanted,
But to get them he needed to catch some monkeys,
There were 59 for $2 and one (the best) for $100.
But when he'd got them all he wanted was...
His sisters crippled leg to be fixed.
He got the troublesome monkeys.


The cool winter breeze began to swirl
making my toes curl .
A shiver filled my spine
Which made my words rhyme
I started talking in my sleep
Which made me weep
I woke the next morning
My tong still borling.


The belting heat from the dragons roar
Made the rain pore
The rain slashed slowly to the rocky ground
Which made the dragon pound
I made a mighty scream
Which opened a sun beam


The belting heat from the dragons roar
Made the rain pore
The rain slashed slowly to the rocky ground
Which made the dragon pound
I made a mighty scream
Which opened a sun beam



As we were breaking up from school,
"Pick a book" the teacher said,
"To have while you're on holiday,
And bring back, when it's read!"
I picked a book at random
(Tho I agonised a bit!)
I didn't know which one to choose,
Which one my taste would fit.
The book I picked was small, dark blue,
And had few pictures in,
Yet when I sat me down to read,
I knew that I was in!
That little book held me enthralled,
At the tender age of ten,
And you can read it now, today,
Tho its many years since when
I picked the book at random,
And read it through, no stoppin's,
What was this book, this magic book?
The tale of "Mary Poppins"!!


I once read a book
A very good book
It had pages of gold
And pictures of silver
It talked about dragons ,fairies and kings
My book lived in a land far far away
A land full of dreams and hopes
My hopes were writen in my book
My book which I wrote in every day
Yes, thats right
It was my best friend
My Diary.

Two lovers meet on a balcony,
Mr Hopper had never met Mrs Silver.
Her smile, her grace and all her love was given to a Tortoise
One day Mr Hopper made Alfie grow and gave his true love magic words.
This spell made Alfie enourmous and made Mrs Silver
and made Mr Hopper talk to her in the same room and not over a balcony.
I love this book true love and romance,
All because of Alfie,
The Tortoise.


It's easy to smile
When life is worthwhile.
When you're happy, well and fit.
You can run any mile
Or jump any stile,
And feel nothing the worse for it!
For then life is easy
As you all well know
You are cheerful, merry and bright,
You think of the glorious things you can do
To put the whole world aright.
When others like you
Hold the very same view,
And are willing to do their bit,
The task is simple and easy to do,
For all take a share in it.
Or if it goes wrong
Well you're all to
blame,
You make no bones about it.
You just give a smile
And all share the shame,
And then put about to right it.



But when you are olone
And something goes wrong,
A d you have no friend to share it,
It is not so easy to sing a song,
Or whistle and grin and bear it.
For when all around is dark with despair,
And sin and disquiet ensnare you,
You look for comfort but find none there,
And fear and doubt tear you.

When illness calls, or your business fails,
Or for your art you have lost the knack,
It is all up hills and never down dales,
And you have a major setback.
Don't call for the worst that hell can send
For things are never so black.

It is then that the stout heart and the true
That courage, and faith, hope and will,
Come up on top as is their wont to do
For they're never standing still.
And so may it be, that every dark cloud
Be it high or low, or where,
A beautiful silver lining shroud
And may you always find it there.

There was a man on the stairs.
Who said that he wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today .
I wish that man would go away.
And then I could go up the stairs .
As if that man he wasn't there.
And then when I got up the stairs.
Another thing happened up there.
I met a man called ray.
Who lived right next to a bay.
He had a fight with a warewolf that night.
And soon became an x-ray.
After that I went to bed.
And met a man who had no head.
He walked about,
a bit at a time.
And then he fell over dead.


Matilda likes to read
And she has magic powers
Her mum and dad are wicked
And her teacher is wicked too.
So at the end of the story
She went to live whith Miss Honey

Me, Jo, and Leannne,
Went to the farm
We saw goats and horses and cows,
Sheep and pigs.
We stroked them and we fed them,
And I found some buttercups
And then we got back in the car
And drove safely home.



one two three four five
we're the famous five
i'm jolly glad to be alive
we're the famous five

this comes from my favourite book
turn the page and have a look


Peter Pan was a boy
He didn't have any toys
He made up games
With all his friends
that made lots of noise.

There was a man called Mr Twit,
Who made his wife dig a pit.
She made him sit in it.
What a silly Mr Twit!


There was an old women who found a dog
who walked along the seashore .
With the little dog she found seven children .
They took her and the dog home
and they lived happily ever after.


i met him in a book
he was red and black
and very bad .
could he ever be
good.
no, never not he.
how ever did he
ever think up all
his tricks.
now if you stilll do not
know here is a clue.
D .M are my initials.


I met it in a book, a scary thing
It jumped out and tried to get me
I couldnt belive what i was seeing,
at that moment I was thinking seeing is believing,
and at it kept on going through my head again and again,
and it was definatly doing my head in!


The Peach was large ,
James was small,
James decided to take the Peach for a stroll,
They wandered here and wandered there and wandered till they grew quite old.


kipper and biff I remember you well
from when I was a little girl
I liked it when you went on adventures
I wish I could read your books still
but I am too old now.


I always loved reading about you Arriety ,borrowing away. I want to be one too climbing up clocks, sliding down ropes, blotting paper for carpets ,lumps of cheese enough to last a week.


Annie Rose is the little sister of alfie they live ina street with lots of neighbours one day anne rose and alfie went to the park to the park in their new welling tons she was a lovely little girl but always in trouble with her brother alfie she had blonde hair and a checky grin and couldnt talk very well but every one could understand her she is my favorite story


I met you in a book,
Although it took a long time to read
Good parts, bad parts and parts i wish I'd never read,
The part where you got murdered it nearly made me cry
But when you came back to life I jumped for joy and carried on reading
When i eventually finished your story
Things were happy and hunkey dory.


One starry night the BFG
blew Wizard Wonkers through to me


The little Princes
A young girl was put to school in Newyork
her farther whent to fight.
There was a small mistack and everbody
had thought he had died she had to move to live in the attic soon it was veled that he still lived but he did not have a memory.
So the other maid and her self moved away with
her rich father.


WE jumped into the sea
fishes everywhere
dark images everywhere around me


Jeffrey Archer
Dressed in a parka
Wrote a long involved tale
Not about Harvard or Yale
But about our own Government
and the strange happenings therein
Also he told a good yarn
about people who lived in a barn
Converted of course
With more than one horse
Traced to a very good source


i hate reading because iam not good at it and books are boring .





I have read the witches and i enjoyed it very much . It was very funny and exciting.


I see a window
Isee a tree
Isee a flower
I see me

I see a window
I see a tree
I see a flower looking at me.

name: Emma .L. Hunt.
Date: 28 May 1998
Time: 10:53:57


Sparkle sunshine,Sparkle sunshine
Make my day a better day with out going away
Hope you follow me every day
Please please sparkle sunshine stop with us
Every day but we know you will have to go
Some day but please come back again some day

With all the words in all the world
why cant I think of anything to say...
today


II read yopur books, you came alive,
It all began with THE FAMOUS FIVE.


Shakespeare's plays caught my eye
Great Caesar for one I did espy
But my, how the mighty are laid low
Bumped off, like Julius, by a sudden blow
Like Anthony, I was sorry to see him go
Though a tyrant was he, I well know
Cruel and vain he was, they say
And his last words? "Et tu Brute!"


i met you in the world made of chocolate you were so very sweet and tender you were so soft and tasted so nice i could not help but to eat you


He was big and had large ears
And his name was Mr. Squeers
Hitting children just for fun,
He was not a pleasant one!


The COUNTY SHOW is oh so grand,
I'd like to see a bag pipe band.



Did I


And my world faded I was swept into mystery and magic

I came, I saw, I went.

I met you in a book it was like a dream it was.

I read a book once

I didn't like it, I'll never read another.


I went to the agricultural show,
I met a cow I didn't know,
I said, " Hello " and stroked it's head,
It said, " Moo, Moo! " and went to bed.


Books are very good,
They help me with my homework


The pages turn the words unfold,
will this story ever be told?


if dinosaurs were here today what would the world be like. We may not be here today if they had not died out .Would there still be palm trees or swamps full of beasts.


I met you in a book,
And you gave me loads of luck,
You name is Captain Cook.


i would like matilda to be my friend so she could solve my problems


But this above all,
Make sure thy words are true,
For surely as day follows night
Thy body language is spilling the beans


I am a County Councillor
and there for all my sins
I serve and write on committees
and it ends up in the bins


Roal Dahl he is the best,
I read him all the time,
His story are imaginative,
But they very rarely rhyme.
He's copied other stories,
He's made up his own.
And that is why Roal Dahl,
Is very well known.


Imet you in a book
I saw you first
in the distance
Just a glimpse on a shelf
I moved to reach you
But you'd gone
An illusion
created by my mind
wanting to find my dreams- magical lands
beautiful words
the story I've always looked for
There, just out of reach.
So I go on
looking
book after book
until I find you,
there.


i lioke the magic key, the dragon and lots of hearts


When I was having a look, it was a Big book - and the man had a hook!


goosebums is so scary its the best book I have read.


When I opened up the pages, there you were,
waiting for me.
Sometimes you made the tears fall.
Sometimes you made me laugh out loud.
One thing is certain.
You were always there,
waiting patiently,
always a comfort.


I liked when the famous five went for a walk
meeting Block the servant of the house.


I like goosebumps because they are scary.
Like stay out of the basement.


we are all at sea said the captain
thats where we are ment to be replied i


I walked into a small, dark room and in the corner sat a big, cuddly, soft dog. The dogs name, I was told, was wuffty. "Hello", I said. "Woof, Woof" replied my friend the dog


One day I heard a sheperd counting his sheep
and this is the ryhme l heard him say,
one-eren
two-eren
that makes four
cock-eren
sho-eren
that makes four more


I met you in a book
through the pages we looked
a policeman, jockey and social climber are all to be found.
From Morse to Frost, Worster to Emsworth, a world to see. The time could be now or in the past the, imagination of solving the mystries is like predicting the winner of the Cheltenham Novices.


Bilbo was a hero, small in statue, brave at heart,
Gandalf his wizard friend, powerful and mighty.
I lived their adventure and made my many visits into lands of adventure.


Bad Girls is a brillant book by Jacqueline Willson.
Its about a little girl


I dont like reading books at all
my teacher makes me read after dinner


Books are boring
Books are fun
Books are different for everyone.
Read them little
Read them lots
Read them as often as you want

If you read a little a day
You will read better each day


Car type books are good to read
I can read these with great speed!
My friend likes books that tel her tales
Like Miss Pergut and Farmer Dales



Reading is so fun ,
As soon as you have begun,
you will never want to stop
Try reading in the bed,


I like reading in my bed,
I like reading on my head,
I like reading in my car,
I like reading in the bar,
I like reading in the hall,
I like reading in St Pauls,
I like reading in Napaul,
i like reading playing ball.


I like reading in the hall,
I like reading at a ball,
Ilike reading in my hair,
I like reading in a chair,
I like reading eveywhere


I like reading books in Spain ,
I like reading in the rain ,
I like reading in a car ,
I like reading near and far ,


I saw you in a book
You were as funny as can be
Then I turned the page and you frightened me !


After reading all the pages
All the way to the end
I realized that you
Were actually a good friend !


A mother of eight sat up late
Stitching her husdand's pyjamas

A stitch in time saves nine!!


Emma, a very perculiar girl,
Who didn't often twirl.


You were small, and furry and in dreadful trouble
Mr McGregor got your dad and your uncle
You only escaped by the skin of your teeth
Peter Rabbit you nearly came to grief!


A bear hunt,
A bear hunt,
We're going on a bear hunt,
We'll splash the stream,
The wind will blow,
And we'll get frozen in the snow.
But still we'll hunt,
We'll hunt that bear
Right to his cave,
And if he's there
With cold wet nose
And googly eyes
Well, that will be
A great surprise!
So back we'll run
Through wind and snow
And up the stairs
Safe home we'll go.
We'll tuck our heads
Down low, and say
"We wont come out
Again today."
Tomorrow though,
You never know -
Cos on a bear hunt,
We might go!
Thank you, Michael Rosen!


Some books have grave thoughts to make you laugh -
"Here liies an old lady of Ryde
who ate some green apples and died
the aples fermented inside the lamented
and made cider inside her inside."


I once read a book
I had to take a look
I had such fun
And i'd only just begun

I've got an itch at the end of my nose

I'll give it a scratch and see if it goes.

Of twilight airs with moonshine brushed,
the lovers take the stage.
Full hearted lust, and passions blushed,
held captive on each page.
But danger, lurking as a knife

the parting plunge will take.
To draw the coiling story line,
tight, by fated stake.
And in the ever sacrifice

the blooding and the cross.
Then ever is the loving prize.
Worthy of the the loss.

Old Lob was a farmer
In my first school reading book.
My teacher opened up the page
And made me take a look!
She pointed to the squiggles
On the bottom of the page
Expecting me to cope with them
At just 5 years of age!
I pointed with a finger
That was chubby, to the line
And as I did, some simple words
Came straight into my mind!
"I am Old Lob"
The squiggles said,
And then went on to say,
"And this is Percy the bad chick,
And Dobbin, in the hay!"
The memories those words evoke,
Though they were years ago!
The day I knew that I could read,
Cos "Old Lob" told me so!

My teddy bear is soft,
My teddy bear is sweet,
I sometimes get him Smarties as a special treat.

My teddy bear's coat is soft,
My teddy bear's coat is brown,
He normally turns himself upside down.

I give my teddy kisses,
I give my teddy hugs,
He does not like bugs.

So now you know about my teddy bear,
But there's one thing you don't know.
He fly's through the air.

I LOVE MY TEDDY BEAR
(and I found him in a book).

We'd met before:I was sure: so it wasn't a surprise,
To see a depth a sadness buried deep behind your eyes,
I could only offer myself to you to help in your despair,
So on your lonely Isle of grief you knew that I would care....

I have many friends you know,
Lets take a trip and say Hello!
Winnie the Pooh, Winnie the witch,
Jack and Jill who fell in a ditch.
Paddington a very old bear,
Little Grey Rabbit and Nut Brown Hare.
Annie Rose and her brother Alfie.
A Grumpalump, now what is he?
There's Hairy Maclary, Kipper And Spot,
Of dogs and bears there's an awful lot.
Rainbow fish and Elmer are a colourful pair.
Just so many friends to visit and books to share..

Your eye is bright, your head is old,
A 'favourite aunt', you're in that mould.
That's how you look, but we're not deceived,
Wherever you are, abroad, or St Mary Mead,
Murders happen, it's what we expect.
And though so genteel, and, oh so correct,
You know human nature, its dark side and good
And you solve the mystery, as no one else could.

What a great idea to write this poem, Staffordshire children doing their bit, Writing on the Internet.
Thousands of lines,hundreds of poets,
I hope they make it a great big hit!


The Dictionary has thousands of words,
We use them every day
In lots of useful ways.

It's Winny The Pooh,It's Winny the Pooh,
A favourite character of mine.
So is the Twits,so is the Twits
They are such Twits!
They are ,they are!
What about Fantastic Mr Fox?
He must have a sore bottom,after his tail came off!
Oh yes oh yes, oh yes!!

We met you in a barn
Two sisters and a brother
They made themselves at home
And became spirits of the past.
No mom or dad in sight,
So Catherine became their mother,
Tessa was the amuser
And Dan was just the brother.
And then at last their parents came back,
Carrying all their back packs.
The time went back to 98,
And both Catherines said "Goodbye, Children Of Winter".

One day little Babe the pig,
Went out for a game of Tig,
He fell in the lake,
Got bit by a snake,
That pig with the sense of a twig!!

There once was a bear called Winnie the Pooh,
Who found he didn't have a thing to do,
So he climbed into bed,
And did nothing instead,
But Tigger burst in with a massive BOO!

There once was tiger called Tigger,
Whos tummy was getting much bigger,
So he went on a diet,
Which caused him a riot,
As he was flattened by a digger.

There once was a pig called Piglet,
Who ate a big pack of Twiglets,
He burnt his tongue,
He didn't last long,
So that was the end of Piglet.

There once was a young boy called Robin,
Who had a go at apple bobbing,
He did it at Halloween,
So his face turned bright green,
And he changed into a bad goblin



A little baby tadpole trys to riggle free from a clump of frogspawn amongsed loads of lilys .
This little tadpole eventually breaks free he swims in his new found home just silently circling round and round. He dives down deep into the reeds and starts nibbling on the dark green leaves drifting on the bottom. A few months later he was now no tadpole but a beautiful frog with it's slimy skin glistening in the sunlight.

Peacefully sitting on a lily,amongst clump of green flowers and tall reeds. Below a slimy warty frog, lots of baby tadpoles swimming. Baby tadpoles looking up mysteriously at big fat frog. No sound except that of other frogs croaking loudly in the blazing sun. There was a buzz that had come from a black fly. Frog popped his long tongue out and before you could say anything buzzing fly had disappeared.

Icreep blindley down the damp underground passage. Then stop, sniff and then silently walk onwards.Suddenly the scent of a worm is in the air, I sniff again. Then again I start struggling with my hands trying to get through the hard crusty ground all around me. knowing my food is close, I'm beginning to struggle because the scent is fading. I fear I have lost my food again. So again creeping down the lownly damp tunnels of my home.

Have you had a look at my shiny red book . I've read it to the cook my shiny red book . I turn the pages with a hook my shiny red book . I even caught a rook with my shiny red book.

The cuckoo clock of doom is my favourite book
and my friends say they've seen it on T.V.
I wonder what it would be like if the story came
true with the clock that keeps on going cuckoo.

Book, Book, take a look,
there in the air, everywhere.

Mole comes out of a dark hole,
he sniffs first, and smells the air
looks around for food.
struggling to get the tasty worm he admires
feels alittle drop falling on his back,
he scurries back in his hole
hoping it want rain.

Books there fun , there teaching , its books.

A little baby tadpole trys to riggle free from a clump
of frogspawn amongsted loads of lilys .
This little tadpole eventually breaks free he swims
in his new found home just silently circling round and round.
He dives down deep into the reeds
and starts nibbling on the dark green leaves drifting on the bottom.
A few months later he was now no tadpole
but a beautiful frog with it's slimy skin glistening in the sunlight.

There's true books and fiction books,
baby books and scary books.
There's different sizes, different shapes, different colours.
Books every where, over here, over there.

Books are really great to read .
They can take you anywhere , into a rocket
in outer space, even to a icy landscape.
You can fly in a book and you can do what
ever you what.
It may be boring but believe me it's not
Jame's had a adventure in a book he met
new friends and he had a great time.
In a book you can be a spy going around
being a detective .
You can be what ever you what, in a book.

Books, Books, Books all I read is books.
Some fun, some daft,some that give you scary looks.
Some are good,some are bad,some that suit your mum and dad.

Books are long,short,thick or narrow.
There might be one on a swan or a sparrow.
There are lots of different books,
and some that make you take another look.

Fiction, non fiction ,information book that helps you some old,some new dinosaur books,graph books.
for people old and young.

Books are great to read.
Old books, new books, all kind of books.
Ripped books are so very hard to read.
It really takes your imagination away .
into space or into another world.

Mara Jade,
Became a Jedi Knight
But first it was the Rebellion,
That she did fight
She was a commando,
Called the Emperor's Hand.
She underwent missions,
To save the Empire's land

But all that changed,
When the Emperor was thrown
Down a chasm of the Death Star
Which was shortly blown.

Mara Jade
Became a smuggler and an outcast,
And she used her abilities,
To conceal her past.

She joined Talon Karrde,
Who ran a smuggling group
But the Empire attacked their base,
So they flew the coup

But Luke Skywalker discovered,
Mara's Force sensitive nature.
He converted her to the light side,
And her Force control became mature.

The Mara and Luke had to face,
An insane clone of a Jedi Master.
While Luke was trapped beneath fallen rubble,
The Jedi started to blast her.

Luke broke out from the rubble,
And lightening bolts filled the air.
As Luke and Mara battled away,
They were a formidable pair.

The mad Jedi Master died,
And his homeworld blew.
But Luke and Mara escaped on a ship,
And through hyperspace they flew.

Mara Jade,
Became a Jedi Knight.
But now against the Empire,
She did fight.




I dreamt I went to Storyland
And everyone was there,
Little Red Riding Hood, Goldilocks
And every kind of bear:

A baby bear with his mum and dad,
Paddington Bear and Pooh
With bowls of porridge and pots of honey
And marmalade sandwiches, too.

A princess played with a golden ball,
She taught a frog to catch.
A magic goose lay golden eggs
And one began to hatch.

I came upon a little house
All made of gingerbread,
But when I tried to take a bite
I woke up in my bed

I'm going back to Storyland
Before the pictures fade.
I'll open up my story book
And turn another page…




"Oh, I hate spring cleaning, Ratty."
Mr Mole said to his friend.
"All this scrubbing and this cleaning
It drives me around the bend."

"Then down tools right this minute
And let's both take a trip."
Mr Rat said to his molemate,
As he helped him pack his grip.

"A river trip's just what we need"
And, as Ratty grabbed his coat,
He took his old friend by the hand
While they headed for his boat.

"It's a lovely day for sailing,
With the river flowing fast.
Look out for Toad as we reach The Hall,
Then wave as we go past."

Quite soon they spotted Mr Toad
And cheerily they waved.
He was busy in his garden, though
Having his front lawn crazy paved.

"He's got tired of that new mower, then,
The one he could sit upon."
"Yes, he'd had it almost one month
So I guessed that'd soon be gone."

"I heard he had a skate board,
Then a powerboat was his.
He's had jetskis and real fast cars.
He thinks he's such a whizz!"

"Now, he wants to take up politics
And get rich beyond compare
With all those off-shore bank accounts
Tell me, how can that be fair?"

"He thinks Toad Hall will get refurbished,
With flock wallpaper and fine arts,
Whilst he borrows the former Royal Yacht
And sails to foreign parts."

"No, he'll never find true happiness,
with so much change, then gloating
about his very latest craze.
For me, you can't beat boating!"




Did I meet you in a book, you worm?
Were you a page-boy at that 'do'?
An earlier chapter in your life?
A 'phrase' you were going through?

Perhaps we met in a museum
Of antiquities and fine art?
Were you there simply viewing,
Or as an exhibit, you old fart!

I remember your face from somewhere,
Deeply wrinkled and so lined.
Your rear view, too, is memorable.
You've such a fat behind!

Enough of all these pleasantries.
Come tell me, is it true
You were there onboard Titanic?
I've been told that it was you.

No, I'm sure you can't be that old

There's not many folks who can,
But you're looking very ancient,
I feel so sorry for you, man.

Have you considered having surgery?
A face-lift might be good1
Transplant some hair and get new teeth.
I really think you should.

We never know what's lurking
Around each corner in our lives.
Did you have too many children?
Or a few too many wives?

Did they catch you with your pants down,
When you were chasing women?
You should have had more exercise
What's very good is swimming.

By getting so much fitter
You'd be agile and alert.
I'm knowing you from somewhere.
Could be your name, perhaps, be Bert?

I'm not trying to be funny.
The facial hair had got me fooled.
Yes, I noticed your adornments
But these days men are often jewelled

There's no need to get offensive
Or to let your temper fray.
I don't want to know you either!
You're not my Auntie May.

It's an error anyone could make

I don't want to make things worse.
I was only trying to chat to you
Whilst you waited for your hearse.

No, I'm not saying you should be buried
Like some treasure from the past.
Just thinking how you've worn so well,
That good things were built to last.

Well, here's my bus, I'm off now
Hope you don't have to wait too long.
Perhaps we'll meet another day -
In ' Going for a Song'.!




I met you in a book
You really creeped me up.
I read about you all night
I had nightmares every night.
You gave me a very big fright,
I only ever saw your back
Until I read edition two.
When I saw your face,
I started to cry with laughter.

I met you in a book,
You made me very pleased.
I saw you and your body
And fell onto the floor.




I met you in a book,
You were so plump and stubby,
You had a pot of honey,
You had a big blue
You said you were called Pooh,
You said "excuse me do",
As I can't help when it's twelve a.m.
To eat a pot of honey.

One day I came to visit,
You said to me "just a minute"
You cam out with a pot of honey
And then you said "well that's very funny"
When I asked you what was the matter
You said it doesn't matter,
Then you said we will have to eat bread instead,
I asked you about the honey
You said "Well it is quite funny I cannot find any honey anywhere."




I met you in a book
You were an awful cook,
When your dumplings are as hard as stone,
Then all the kids moan and groan

Your jelly was as hard as rubber,
You could mistake it for flubber,
Olive, you're a hopeless cook,
I really should call you a crook.




I met you in a book
His name was Captain Hook,
He only had one hand,
So then he had a hook,
But I wish he never had.

I played with him all day
But I had such a terrible day.
He popped my football,
When he picked it up
And that was the end of that.




I met you in a book
You were big, as tall as a house,
Your ears were large and were full of wax,
You gave children dreams to make them laugh,
You weren't like the rest of them, you know
The monsters, the monsters with long black beards,
And matted brown hair,
Who ate children, only children with long blonde hair,
You know who you are of course,
You're the B.F.G
THE BIG FRIENDLY GIANT!




I met you in a book
The cover made me have a book
You were so big
And when I read you I
Was just a kid.

You walked through the
Street in the dead of the night
Anyone who was awake you
Gave a big fright.
You were the B.F.G.




I met you in a book,
You had a clock in hand,
I asked you the time,
You said you must go,
You hadn't really got the time.

I met you in a book,
Your face was ugly as sin,
Your back garden was a mess,
You kept monkeys in a cage,
And your hair was a terrible mess.

I met you in a book,
You looked like a princess
But when you turned round,
Your face was so ugly,
I dropped my eyes on the ground.




I met you in a book
You were quick on your feet
And prowled around the street
With a knife up your sleeve
Ready to defeat.




I met you in a book
You are as chubby as a pot
You are always eating honey,
And now I am sick of that.
Your top is a bright red colour,
Squeezed on real tight.




I met you in a book
His name was Phillias Fogg

He had adventures around the world
The time was flying by like a bird

Rockets to the moon
Travelling in a hot air balloon.

He met his wife on his journey
Travelling across her lovely country.

They fell in love at first sight
And finally his story's complete.




I met you in a book
I saw your flowing cloak,
I saw the flames around you
And the ever thickening smoke.

I met you in a book
I saw your empty green eyes,
I saw the scars upon you head
And your heart full of sadness and cries

I met you in a book,
I saw the skull upon your belt,
I saw the devil staring down
How scared and lonely you must have felt.

I met you in a book,
They planned it from when he was born
And watched him all his life,
His name in Hell was SPAWN.




I met you in a book
I liked the way you looked.
Long, blonde hair and a pretty face,
Seeing a white rabbit in the glass,
Playing croquet with the Queen of Hearts,
Even meeting the Duke of Darts.

She had quite a lot of adventures
Did little Alice,
Did you know she lived in a palace?
She always had a smile of gleam,
Even though her adventures were just a dream!




I met you in a book
But I only saw your back
You turned around and then I saw your face
The radiance I saw,
Made me fall onto the floor,
Oh Eeyore from the book, I love Eeyore.

I met you in a book,
And you made my heart take wings,
Your radiance made skies light round the world
Your grumpy ignorance,
Made my feet just want to dance,
Oh Eeyore from the book, I love Eeyore,




I met you in a book,
You had a dog called Timmy
You had three friends
You went exploring,
In caves, in houses in Rotten old castle.
Your author was called Enid Blyton
The villains were always fighting.




I met you in a book
The bear that's so into honey,
The bear that's yellow and funny,
Winnie the Pooh
Winnie the Pooh
You are the bear I met in a book.




I met you in a book
You carried a shining hook
You went mountain climbing
With your friends higher then you
And then Golem suddenly turned up.




I met you in a book when you were a crook
I went to the jail to pay your bail,
And this is where the sweet and the bad meet.
The cops are on your trail yet they're trying to catch you at the speed of a snail,
You were only seven when your mum went to heaven.
And then you got sent to jail 'cause you sabotaged mail
When he cam out he let out a shout, yippee!




I met you in a book
While travelling through the ages,
I met you in a book,
With a hundred pages.

You lived in a peach,
Which travelled everywhere,
You were a strange person,
With light blonde hair.




I met you in a book
The book was called Deep Trouble
How did you tackle that squid Andy
Did you have to use an electronic bubble?

Did the mermaid eventually help you
From the dread of that terrible shark
Did you stay in the deep forever
Down there 500 feet in the dark?

Was he a really hard fight
I'm on a bout the shark in the sea
When you really were in trouble
If you'd have known you could have called Calledine.




I met you in a book
You were so small
But if you were real
You'd be so tall

I met you in a book
You had big ears
If you did cry
There's be a pool of tears

I met you in a book
You had big feet
They could almost reach
From here to Crete

I met you in a book
Your name is the B.F.G
You are so big
But as thin as a twig.




I met you in a book
When I had a look
Your name was Hook,
You took in a bird it sounds
Absurd and healed its fear of flying.
You wore a baggy old green coat, a pair of trousers and an old fisherman hat
You found some friends who brought you tea and muffins.
You put booze no 1 and refused tea and muffins.
I'm glad that I brought you into my world, for a measly 50p.




I met you in a book,
You had long blonde hair,
Your name was Matilda,
And your mum was a dare.

She took you to school,
With locks and chains and bears,
She left you there to suffer,
And the trunchball was in charge.

You went down the road to home,
Back to your family,
Your name was Matilda,
And your mother was a dare.




I met you in a book,
You met one night,
One way,
You landed then, quite instantly,
Though, its needless to say,
You loved each other greatly,
Yet time could only tell,
If your love would match eternity,
And prove to others, well…
They doubted your chances,
You loved and loved still,
A story of doomed romances,
A love that would kill,
Your living began when you met each other,
Through barriers,
Through death,
You'll always be together,
Forever…




I MET YOU IN A BOOK
Along those prints of black
And in my head, a vision was formed
Of you in your home, and there you sat,
Laughing visciously at your greed.

But do you really need
To take from poor and weak
On Christmas Eve. In your warm bed
While others freeze. Their future looks bleak.
But do you care? I don't think so!

Then that night three ghosts came
Dark shadows, rattling chains
"Scrooge", they called from the depths of the room
"You selfish toad, financial gains
Wealth and fortunes are all you seek"

Who care for you ? No one!
At the best time of year
To play, to laugh, to give to your friends
But in your large home, there's no cheer
So don't be uptight, have some fun!




I met you in a book…
I opened the paper doors,
As your hour glass pours,
There in black and white,
Not to like you, was a real fight,
Although you are not real,
You sure do make me feel,
That you were so funny, as we could see,
You were a real fantasy,
From making this world die,
The people stuck, they couldn't fly,
You took over Christmas Day,
Even though, it was read in May
You are in many stories you will find,
But best of all, in Terry's mind.
In your black coat and your skeleton way,
That pretty much explains it, what can I say?
Introduced by Mr Pratchett,
Writing a story, I couldn't match it.
Not in a soap, your name is not Seth,
But a fictional character your name is Death
Now after leaving, meeting one of a kind,
He is not with me now but he is in my mind.




I met you in a book this day,
You're a creation of someone's imagination.
You reached out and touched my heart,
I felt your love, your emotions, even the softness,
Of your silky, smooth, painted cheeks.
Romeo, come take my hand,
I'll be your Juliet.

I can see in those dark, thoughtful eyes,
Your soul is mourning because of our concealed love.
I hold you in my arms, I can feel your heart beating,
I open my eyes, you're disappearing.
You only now exist in my imagination,
But I can say, for one time,
I was your Juliet.




"I met you in a book last night,
All that I saw was a bitter lady.
Now you have changed.
But what changed you?"

" I often wondered about you,
How sad you were,
How sour were you?
Then I began to think
How did you smell?
How did you feel?"

"Sadness was all that I could
imagine for you".
"And how strange it was ,
I could smell you,
It wasn't too bad and not too good
Just like dampness."

"Then I could imagine the smell
of the air
I felt sick!"
"The wedding cake you had left,
Leaving ants to live and eat,
How sad you must have been
You deserved better
A better life
A better family
A better time.




I met you in a book
Some strange, old book
You were like a mystery wrapped in
An enigma wrapped in a vest.
You have been heart'broken,
Betrayed and hurt
With time I hope your heart will mend,
Your faith in mankind restored and your
Wounds healed.
Although deaths of friends still haunt
Your dreams, love and hope will
Set you free.




I met you in a book
As you glided through the sky.
You never really did kill Hook,
But you always try.

I met you in a book,
When I was only five.
I loved it when you flew,
When you swooped and dived.

I met you in a book,
You never liked to age.
Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen
The years you liked to save.

You were always like a hero,
Heroism you always took.
That's what you were like
When I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
Once again today.
I stared at the pictures,
And this is what I say.

You're a boy called Peter Pan,
From a book belonging to me,
I met you in a book,
Where I would like to be.




I met you in a book
You're frail, you're grey and old.
Your wedding cake lies on a table,
Half eaten and covered in mould.

You wear upon your body,
A white lace wedding dress
And since the day he left you
You've been in such a mess.

You smell like an old fur coat,
Soft but a scent of musk
You never see the light,
Each moment is always dusk.

You temper uncontrollable
That I can't deny
Miss Havisham I love you
Oh, could you please love I




I met you in a book,
I yearn to take just one look
For you to say to me
What once you've said before
'Did my heart love till now
Forswear it sight for I ne'er saw true beauty
Till this night.'
Your luscious lines repeated
Mean not a lot to me.
I ask 'wherefore art thou Romeo'
Would you die for me?
Is it only you , who could be
The only person for me?




I met you in a book
You were gorgeous in your looks,
Even though you were in a book,
I still looked at your gorgeous looks.

There you were, in a book,
Here I am, lost with your heavy looks,
I wish I were in a book,
To look closely at your heavy looks.

Even though you're married,
I still wish I could have carried,

Even though you're dead
You'll always be inside my head.



I met you in a book
In To Kill a Mocking Bird you were the cook.
I met you in Animal Farm,
Boxer your name you were strong and tough but
Could do no harm.
I met Romeo in a book,
As his love for Juliet grew very grand,
They died for each other hand in hand.
The Capulet gang were probably the best,
As their anger and vengeance were put to the test.
Macbeth was not bothered about murdering,
To achieve ultimate power he killed the King.




I met you in a book
You worked for an evil man.
He had you by his hook!
You had to do all he said,
For the sake of your family .
He worked you night and day, from A to Z.
The weather in which you are, is
Very cold, but you, you are warm.
Your boss, however, is nothing but a
Mean, heartless lightning storm.
He makes you work Christmas Day!
But for your family you'll do it.
Because of course you need the pay!
Obviously you are Bob Cratchett.




I met you in a book
The pull technique was rubbish
But you didn't shout or slap
Only fill my head
With much needed love
And hate
And all that can be
Or shall be prevented
By father's will, or mother's spite.

Your name it called to me
From verse and script
Across the plains
That you seeded
And kneaded
With fresh white hands
And young maiden's breath
Complete with affection
And loving connection.

Yet you shall never be
Or won't
Or will you?
For script and verse
Can play the mind
And twist it to your face
Yet how can I be a lover?
When you are loved with grace.

You took poison
Or didn't
Or will
Or shall never
If I close the book
But I shall never think your face
Unless I keep on reading.




I met you in a book
You made me laugh
Although you were quite daft
Your friend, however,
Was mean, but only on the outside
Inside he cared for you deeply
I know you got into trouble
But you didn't really understand
Your heart is in the right place
Lenny.




I met you in a book,
Solving mysteries, cracking puzzles like no'one had ever seen,
You were a mystery yourself, to some you were a disguise
But one man stood by you tall, he stood by your side.
When your job was done,
Still side by side
You walked off into the darkness,
With a glint in your eye
Would you ever come back?
No one knew
All you knew was that your job was done
Until next time?




I met you in a book
Young lovers and good friends,
Your lives short but complicated
Your love will never end.

From Romeo, you they took,
But you were loved until the end,
Neither of you were tempted,
You knew your love couldn't end.

Romeo and Juliet,
The greatest lovers known,
You loved each other,
You died together,
You will never be done.




I met you in a book

I turned the page,
And you leapt out!
Hercules, so brave and strong,
It made me want to dance and shout.

Spell-bound was I, reading the words
Of all your deeds, twelve tasks in all,
Slaying monsters, you showed no fear,
A pillar of strength, strong and tall.

And when I had finished, I closed the book,
But you live there still and in my heart,
I can open the book and find you once more,
And once again the adventures start.




Do you like Pooh?
Yes I do.
He eats up honey and
thinks about life
he has lots of friends
and seems to have no
worry and strife.

Do you like Kanga and Baby Roo?
Yes I do.
She sorts out Tigger and
Rabbit too
She constantly worries
about little Roo

Do you like Tigger?
Yes I do.
He bounds about
being everyones friend
Disrupting Rabbits plans
and turning things round
in the end.

Do you like Eeyore?
I'm not sure
Do you?






We wish we could be Charlie
And go to the chocolate factory
And meet Willie Wonker
Who makes Chocolate Cherry Bars and
Strawberry Gobstoppers.
We wish we could eat chocolate cars
and chocolate horses
and grow big and fat
But we have not found the golden ticket yet.

You can eat a peach and grow a peach tree
Which grew a peach with peach stone
So Big
It would be a house.
There could be a piano
and a violin
and a guitar
and a trumpet
and a drum
and a keyboard
with a lot of noise.
all inside around a fire.
We could have a party
with party poppers
and balloons and luckybags and games
snakes and ladders and cakes
But it would all go soggy
and the music loggy
and the fire would go out
So you better get out before it explodes.

There is a magic finger
and there is a magic chin
The magic chin could waggle
Should I tell you how?
It can jump around your head
up and down or round and round.
It can chin a football
and score a goal
The magic chin can change the night to day
So that we can always play.







We like books about cars
Fast ones, jeeps and motor bikes
Racing cars and Beetles
and expensive limousines.

Cars that go broom broom
Cars that go fast
Cars that go slow
or go with a blast





We like spotty dogs
Dalmations ono-o-one
Spot the dog and Goofy
And Kipper with his scarf




Our favourite food is beans
and chips, a big fry up
Eggs on Toast
Ice Cream to follow
Chocolate drops, fizzy drinks
tomatoes salad pies
All kinds of food
We could eat all day

Cats
The cat can go meiow meiow
It can scratch at the door
it lifts the flap with his claw
it goes up the stairs and up to the bed
it curls on the pillow next to my head

It goes out at night and gives birds a fright
and comes back at day hungry for its food
when its eaten its in a good mood
it jumps in the bins looking for food
it climbs on your knee and swings on the tree
it goes on the roof or sleeps in the wood
it can die in the wood from the cold and the chill

Jungle Book

Once upon a time
a small boy called Mowgli
was lost in the jungle
when he was a baby

He was found by a wolf pack
and he grew up as a brother
and was taught by Baloo
The laws of the jungle

The naughty young monkeys
wanted Mowgli for leader
they went and they caught him
and took him to their village

Baloo Baghira and Ka found Mowgli
fought with the monkeys
Took Mowgli to the human village
To his own people




Christopher Robin

Christopher Robin had friends called Pooh
Rabbit, Piglet and tigger too
They played and they sang and they danced in the wood
And Tigger had parties whenever he could



Oh! I wish I was a Lizard,
Stuffing beetles down my gizzard,
I think it could be simply wizard,
to be a little lizard.



As Summer burns into Autumn,
The sun in the sky lingers low,
Revealing a matured, mellow, lampshade glow,
Rustic colours glint, from coppery, bronzed, tarnished tints,
A multitude of numerous paint brush coloured prints,
Orange sun, filters through misty air,in silken golden strands,
Autumnal English countryside,
Some of the best in the lands.

Micklemas daisies, dahlias and chrysanths,
The Autumn beauty they enhance
Blackberry, elderberry, plum, apple and pear,
Nature throws a garden party most of the year,
Silvery spun spiders webs, across the hedge,
Gossamer threads around the window ledge.

Mushroom and fungi, toadstool,
Hard to distinguish one from the other, easy to fool,
Chill in the air, a nostalgic sadness
The end of a certain Summer madness.

The abundant growth is slowed right down,
Until, its turn, to come back around,
Nature is getting ready to rest,
Evergreens, are on stand-by next
September, signals Autumn's birth,
A rich harvest is gathered from Mother earth.

The Autumn air lends a different atmosphere
A resigning, declining, acceptance to the ending of the year,
Even the birds seem to know
Their migrating starts, to warmer climbs
A journey they take many times,
Getting used to dark nights and morning once more,
Cut short reminiscing days reminds us

Large clover like leaves of chestnut trees,
Descending dusk, discarded shells of conker husks
Conkers , coated and varnished in Autumn falls,
An abundant gathering of little brown balls,
Halloween magic, bewitching and eerie,
Winters coming dull and dreary

Candle holder, pumpkin mask
Trickle treating, is the next task
A flurry of leaves swept up by the wind in a heap,
A bonfire all smoky, damp, remains of rooting foliage nature cannot keep
Leaves in a mulch, when the ground gets wet,
The younger months are left
Behind, for some of us, it is with regret.

Pencilled, silhouette, skeleton trees
Stencils of replicas Winter sees,
Brown paper discs, parachute
Torn from their outgrown root,
Trees, undressed by windy thrust,
Stand naturally nude, without disgust.

A melody of colour covers, clusters the ground
Nutmeg, mustard, copper, bronze the trodden, trampled, rustled sound,
A scattered haze of misty rain, answering thirsty needs
Sprays the branches with clinging silver jewelled beads.

Temperature lowers, frosty refrigeration freezes the air,
Sky flushed crimson complexion, crisp, cold felt everywhere,
Icy ventilation erupts, from the stirring breeze,
Feather design sketched on water by freeze

Oil painting picture serene
Effect of cellophane sheen
Sprinkled icing sugar sifted snow, whitens, prettifies the evergreen,
Blown, swept and drifted, Jack Frost, sharp and keen,
Sleepy, muffled silence felt first instalment of the season,
Nature dreams, convalesces, waits till Winter's been and gone.

Lonely with isolation,
Accompanied by desolation,
Searching, yearning, grieving, dreaming
Lost and unfulfilled, unseeing.

Dissolution drifts nearer,
Wandering wonder, grows dearer,
Single, segregated, one man's land,
Longing to grasp, another's special hand.

Unripened, shallow, hoping for love,
Desired, friendship, guided from God above,
The mystical, spiritual phenomena encloses,
Encircles our lives, presently to show us,
In strange unexplained experience
Increased, cultured by faith allegiance.

What means of youthful hours,
When cradled, in vanity's arms,
Nurturing the rugged pathway,
Stooping toward, an invisible Eden.

Swayed as a sapling green and tender,
As a seedling, hatched from nature,
Fickle roots, as yet unspread in sturdy soil,
While waits, the fallen blossom of youth.

When the quenched dew of youth has bloomed,
So flakes the supple essence of this phase.
Unto the likeness of an oak, wise and strong,
Old and matured, grown in grace and splendour.




Spring fades the cosmic frown,
Lighter light invades the night,
Nature models, stitches her gown,
Each new dawn is a delight.

Her own design she has made.
An aura of blending green brocade.
Fledgling birds mouth their joy,
For food their parents they annoy.

Embroidered emerald hues of green,
Will soon again be seen.
Sleeping bulbs, shrubs, trees,
Awaken to the touch of a warm spring breeze.

Sunshine opens the hearts of flowers.
They sunbathe, then get wet in the showers.
Eggs in their thin shells ready to get to hatch,
Nests patiently made from straw, twig and thatch.

Instilled spring air,
Is suddenly everywhere.




The Demerara brown sand bathes,
In curved tongued waves
That slap and beat,
Each others feet,
In childful torment,
Their only vent.

The dome shaped roof above,
Sometimes decorated in Dove,
Cocoons of milky fluff,
(And other stuff!)
Pastel colour fades,
To darker shades.
The interior lining of an outer sphere,
Which to the Homo Sapiens is still unclear.

From the static shore,
Photographic eyes perceive ore.
Cinematic misty blue haze,
Reflected risen from the waves.
The distant elusive horizon,
Beckons, calls the imagination forever on.




God has switched the light on

Revealed the stage set to play,
The dramatic role of each new day,
Drawn back the dark curtain,
The backdrop of daylight is certain.

Routine set in motion, dashing hither and thither.
No time to tarry and dither,
Monitored by the body clock, we cannot stop.
Pressured to work, earn and learn,
For leisure and wealth we yearn.

Day and night, day and night,
Hustle, bustle, tussle, its dark or light.
Dawn till dusk, season to season, what is the reason.
Clockwork people, made motivated by Gods powers,
Hastily rushing away the daily hours.

God lowers, dims the lights and ignites the stars.
Star-studded, sequin jewels embedded in an indigo sky.
Lantern moon, hovers fluorescent
Reflecting mystical moonlight, heaven sent.

Intangible black, invisibly seen,
Nursing us in sleep and dream.
A velvet cloak, a shrouded veil.
Released from reality into a slumberland trail.
Drifting softly on a bed of foam,
Travel in sleep, go on and roam.

Firelight, candlelight at home does flicker a flame,
Evening cosiness with curtains drawn over again,
Gentle softness in still dark night,
Rest with God, until the morning twilight.




Enraptured in ecstasy,
Reeling, whirling in whirlpools of laughter,
Transcended to a trance,
Tripping the ground with dancing feet.

Floating through an incessant force,
In gayest abandonment.
Tentatively touching, enough to grasp another world,
Uncaptured beauty untraced.

A silent symphony conducted by harmony,
Enriching the inward spirit,
Singing mind and soul unique.
Upon this plane will ever,
Travel onward toward heavens gate.




Enter the embryonic garden gate,
See the birds, insects, trees, the fresh pollen they partake.
Where butterflies are enticed by the colourful scented flowers,
That entertains the garden hours.

Vines that twine, creepers that crawl.
Wrapping themselves around plants and all.
Trees that have gone quite tall,
Allow the garden some shade.

Grass crew cut short, cropped by cultivated thought,
Where new morn hay is laid,
When dried in the suns heat, goes like straw.
Soon it will grow again and there will be plenty more.

The pungent smell of freshly cut grass
Will so swiftly pass.
Use of flymo and scythe.
When the grass gets high bees thrive in their hive.

Perfumed rosettes of velvet petals,
Curled giving us the joy of cabbage roses,
Generously watered by the garden hoses.
Red and yellow poppies, buttercups of custard yellow.
Old fruit trees, at the bottom of the garden,
Fruits going mellow, Honeysuckle, scented musk,
Perfumed more headily and strong at duck.

The peace of a garden, a mirrored pond,
The delicate sounds of its fountains, trickling water,
To the height of the season, until the days get shorter.
A choir of birds all in tune,
The dawn chorus in the middle of June.

The transforming picture throughout the years,
Nature's fashion show she wears,
Youth of freshness, transformed too old,
Flowers once so beautiful, withered and cold.
From seeds to weeds that blew,
Pollination carried through.

A mannequin parade, a succession of flowering plants,
Wait patiently for their turn,
Green Ivy bracken and fern,
The changing colours that impress,
Natures way of pleasing us,
Never clashing, matching greenery,
A kaleidoscope of picturesque scenery.

Garden bench, hedgerow fence,
A family of garden hosts, live
Together in ceremony and harmony.
Spiders spin their webs, out in the open,
Shut in the sheds.

Worms, slugs and bug,
Come up in the soil when the ground is dug.
Ladybirds and moths, Daddylonglegs,
Join in the company of others,
All these things in a garden are a joy for garden lovers.

When time has done its worst,
And the whole world is cursed,
From atomic bombs, and unwashed sins,
Past and future, ends and begins.
Regimented robots, press button brigade,
An Armageddon meteorite delayed.

Microscopic dust, metal turned to rust,
Salvation of the earth's, dried up crust.
Global warming, unnoticed atmospheric warning,
The unheeded, weather changes dawning,
Pollution breeding fog, inhaling cloudy smog.

A time warp, measuring constantly changing,
Insidious, permanent, temporarily, always re-arranging,
Situations, circumstances, a specific period of ones life, lived within, certain changes.

Its hands are pointing fingers at our lives,
No-one knows, who dies, or who survives,
Only time can hold a memory, or soothe, and heal an open wound,
Treasured, measured moments, it weaves and threads a path of emotion entombed,
Like a diary calendar, marked off as we look.

It dictates, natures clock, the turning of the year,
Marching toward the millennium bug, computer data to prepare,
Slow down, wait a while,
But rushing is its style,
It quickly pushes forward, where is it , hurrying to, can't it stop,
The heartbeat pulse of a clock,
Plenty of time left in stock.




Once captured, too heavy to hold,
Unable to be released, unable to be told,
Often spoken on the frowns of a face,
Worry of whatever nature, held in place,
It speaks,its words, in a language of stress,
Always locked up, unable to express.

Exaggerated, short lived, permanent or held over,
Creates nervous tension, to be carried on ones shoulder.
Worry so strong, going on for so long,
Holding victims prisoners for an indefinite sentence,
Worry makes worried people, put on a particular pretence.

Tormentor of a hounding kind,
Driving one out of their mind,
The frustrated brow, here and now,
Worry that nags and nags, trying to get away from it, but how?
It has an unanswered doubt,
There just seems no way out.

Worry waits for a solution to be able to solve,
Going around, around, and always will evolve,
As one gets older, it is harder to bare,
Worry is a worry, to be able to share.

Worry eats away, gnaws at one's soul,
Snatches thoughts and emotions out of control,
Worry takes its toll,
It needs a vent, a key to realise it,
God is the master, with prayers he will ease it.




I always thought I was alone then I started to read which is when I met you in a book.
I can't imagine how sad I would be without a book to read.
I read it by the fire instead of watching TV and you come alive with the words you met in a book.
I will always remember the day I met you in a book it was Christmas and you came to me and answered my prayers of lonliness.
Thankyou for the day I met you in a book.




Matilda has magical powers.
She's got short black hair.
The curtains open
When she moves her hands.

She is frightened of Trunchbull
Who is an ogre to her pupils.




Lucy was a little girl,
Who found a magic land.
She found it by accident,
When playing hide and seek.
She hid herself in a wardrobe,
Which was very very big.
She wanted to get to the back of it,
So she walked on and on,
And on and on,
And suddenly
She found herself
Standing in snow
Right beside a lamp post
In the middle of a wood.
A fawn came up to her
And asked her to join him for tea.
I expect you know what a fawn is,
But if you don't I'll tell you straight off:
It is half-goat, half-man.




The Winnie Pooh is funny
And he likes honey
Because he's funny.

In science fiction we saw an alien
Through to fantasy with dragons,
Serial killers in Point Horror.
Words upon words in books.
Find the clues and solve the puzzles,
Follow the crime and action in Point Crime.
Who fancies who in Romance tales.
Find out about famous things and people,
Go on have a look.
There's a lot of different things in a book.

"Ask the witch"

"Witch, witch, as you fly by night,
What can you see in the sky so bright?"
"Child, child, as the years pass by
Strange apparitions appear in the sky!"

"Witch, witch in your hours of flight.
What sort of strangers come into your sight?"
"Child, child, as I ride my broom
I see space ships and rockets that bleep and zoom!"

"Witch, witch, will you take me there
To seek for adventure and life in the air?"
"Child, child, you must wait I say
For moonships are full of equipment today!"

"Witch, witch as you float unseen,
Do you see Martians, and are they green?"
"Child, child I am no-one's spy
Secrets like that are for those who F-L-Y!!"

Oh that old Sicilian jive
It makes it good to be alive!
Sit with me on this sundrenched patio
Sipping your cooling glass of something green.
My dear, my dear, and read with me
the verses I penned last even in your honur!
My poetry flows rich and strange
Under the influence of your gazes.
Even the simplest glance amazes
me with the deepfelt love you show.
Come kiss me with the kisses of your mouth
You black but comely oriental you!
Oh could I transfer to words
The opulence of your ebon tresses,
the ripe red richness of those shimmering lips!
But no - my poems try
In humble words (I wonder why)
to set in ink the essence of youy -
Not the mere voluptuous show
But the hidden subtleties I only know.
Your intellect , your analytic grasp
(Far sturdier than the hand that grasps my thigh)
Your clarity of vision, sharper far
Than this sun embittered azure sky.
I write your mathematical allure.
Those reaches of your mind, so true and pure
That only I understand, my dusky girl -
For in the sultry passages of morning
I hear you whisper in my ear
Philosophies of yesteryear.
the concepts of the Platonists
Euclidean geometry
The Frogs of Aristophanes
While sipping breakfast tea.

Oh that old Sicilian jive.
It makes it good to be alive

Dadadadadad
Splidgy splodge
Is this a book?
Non, c'est lle poem intermondial sublunaire.
Oui. Maintenant le rire -
Ho ho ho ho ho
tee hee
Bonjour
Dada dada
Yipeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Bon jour
Good morning
Good morning
Good morning
Yipeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
dadadadadadadada
Bon soir!!!!
Indeed, so true.

(Paris 1926)

I was sitting in my room one night,
Reading my book in a dim light,
The book was about a famous poet,
No one knew, and he didn't show it.
That's where I met you, in a book,
I had to have a second look,
You had inspired me to write such things,
about ghosts, lies, feelings that bring
such joy to read as well as write.
I wrote a poem on that night,
About who I met,where and how,
So that's about it for now.

Oh the World's Longest Poem
I wonder how long it will be?
Will it take so long to print it out
I'll miss my afternoon tea?

I like cats,
Cats like me,
All the cats there are to see.

A lovely coat,
and eyes sincere,
In wastelands white
You showed no fear.

Clothes all tattered,
Had to work all day.
Yet you dreamed of a prince,
Who would love you always.

We've met before, I whispered,
As I stroked the velvet nose,
But your life will be quite different,
I'm promising you now.
No need to fear the future,
Just grow and graze and grow.
You'll be with us forever,
Not sold from home to home.
So rest easy Anna sewell,
This Black Beauty is quite safe,
He'll not follow in the hoofprints,
Of his famous namesake.

Am i the victim of a conspiracy?
All my contributions where are they?

Is someone censoring the World's Longest Poem?
Or are our contributions being intercepted?
Oh yes. Without a doubt.
My poetic donations have been hi-jacked.
It's the greys.
Oh yes, without a doubt.
They keep an eye on us, you know.
An important intellectual experiement
Like the WLP

Bound to interest them.

I'm relieved I use pseudonyms.

No one knows my identity -
So i hope.

So, WLP, you are being read -
Somewhere in Andromeda these lines are pored over.
Yes
An insight into the human brain.
Evidence of thought processes.
Preparation for experiments,
Abductions.

Yes.
Read on, literary aliens in the sky.
How satisfying it is to know I have an audience!
Yes.
Indeed.
Pardon?

This morning I opened the book.
You remember?
the one you gave that last summer.
The swallows, I think, were leaving.
we were on the bridge, do you remember,
The weir was so loud. I laughed when you said
It was too loud to speak, but nothing was left to be said.
I should have cried.
You handed me the book.
I knew then it was goodbye.
It had to end
Oh God
so I looked again in the book you gave me
I heard yesterday you were dead.
How long it took for the news to come.
Lost, missing, your plane gone into the sea?
Somewhere, like so many of you, young men,
So, just a book, a gift
Forever in my memory surrounded
By the noise of the water over the weir
Like the roar of the plane, the wind, the sea
Racing up to catch you.

I only read one line
you'd written an inscription.
"June, in memory of happy days on leave"

But that's not my name.
Who were you thinking of?
Did you pick up the wrong package? Were there many?

Who were you remembering when you hit the sea?

(Teddington, 1944)

I'm Popeye the sailor man
I live in a caravan
I opened the door and fell to the floor
I'd overdosed on spinach man!

I met you in a book,
A person from afar,
You give me such a dirty look,
I didn't ask who you are.

And then I met your brother,
He said his name was Jim,
A kindly looking gentleman,
Who's face was growing thin.
His clothes were all in tatters,
And his hair was all askew,
He smelt
It didn't matter though,
He was nice and friendly too.

I asked him about yourself you know,
And he sighed and looked at me,
"That rotten little so-and-so,
He's never kind to me."

And so I learnt a lesson,
Despite you looked so grand,
I much preferred your brother,
A much, much better man.

In "Ten kittens go to camp"
They swished their tails
A lot.
Mrs Grey was angry,
Pleased she was not.

She tied their tails to the tent.
You may think this was bad.
But rocked themselves to sleep
They did,
So she wasn't really mad.

Matilda is a magic girl,
But she doesn't have any curl.
She can make the windows
Open with her eyes,
And everybody could see
Miss Trunchball go up to the sky.

Matilda can go to the library
On her own,
And can take lots of books home.
Her teacher Miss Honey
Is very kind,
And she can understand Matilda's mind.

I like it when it flooded round
Christopher Robin's house.
And Christopher Robin kept measuring
The water with a stick.

They had a hero party,
That I liked the best.
A party in the garden
With lots of food and drink.

I look in the library,
There are lots of books about ghosts
And tricksters,
Misery like the Famous Five,
And Tumbleweed.
Tumbleweed is a lot of fun,
Not misery.

I like to look in the library,
It's got a lot of things for me.

The Famous Five at Smuggler's Top
Is a very thrilling adventure.
With Sooty, Timmy, George, Dick, Julian and Ann.
They never suspect Block as a villain yet.
He sent signs to the smugglers
Who were coming across the swamp.
Their cargo was loaded with treasure.
Well, they caught Block,
And that was the end.

We like books that are funny,
The Magic Finger was funny
Because the father was changed
Into a duck,
And the ducks were changed into people.
The father kept getting
Shot, in the bottom.

We like books with adventures,
Like Matilda,
She was funny, because
She got up to lots of trouble.

We're going on a bear hunt,
I've got to do a stunt,
The Famous Five are coming alive.
Bill's new Frock
And one smelly sock,
It's Matilda,
The power builder,
Cosmic cat,
Is he fat?
Magic FInger,
I'd like to be a singer.
Danny,
Turns into an old granny.
Peter Pan
Will never be a man.

I like books that are funny,
Matilda was funny because
She was naughty and daring.
She used to get up to all sorts of things
Like going into her Headmistress's house
Just to get her teacher's doll,
Or to frighten the Headmistress.
She was very clever,
And she had lots of power that I'd like to have.
We like books that are friendly,
Like the BFG which stands for
Big Friendly Giant.
He feels lonely because he's big
And everybody's scared of him.

Roald Dahl is a famous author.
He writes some of the funniest books.
Quentin Blake is his artist,
Who draws all the characters
Good and bad looks.
The Magic Finger,
The
duck or the geese,
Whatever they were,
The right book for all kinds of people,
Even people in Medicare.
He is my favourite writer,
He makes his books much brighter.

Roald Dahl is an author,
He wrote the BFG.
He writes books for children
Just like you and me.
Lots of people read them,
Just pick up a book
And take a look.

I met you in a book
It was the Necronicon
Of the Mad Arab Abdul Al Hazred.
I purloined it from the cloistered shadow
Of the Miskatonic University Library.
And now you come for me
From the icy wastes beyond time.
You octopedal gibbous evil you!
Ngah nghagh Cthulhu R'lyeh Yog Soggoth
Phtang!

(Editor's note: Is the use of the expression "Ftang!" in the Goon Show evidence that Spike Milligan read the works of Lovecraft?)

"Where's my 1000 Year Diary?
Lost in E Space?
Those Charged Vacuum Envoidments always play havoc with the Tardis controls.
Where have I been? Where am I now?

Where is the Terrible Zodin?"

"Doctor...."

"No time for waffle.
Look in the Boot Cupboard, Romana.
Look in the Zero Room."

"Doctor...This is is the zero room."

"The Cloister bell tolls. Is the end?"

"No, Doctor. It's time for change.
But this moment has been prepared for."

"Regeneration, Romana?"

"Indeed, Doctor. Why don't you pull yourself together?
I've managed it twice myself. How doyou like my new me?"

"I cannot see, My eyes are foggy. You've come back from ESpace?
Did you bring K9?"

"That useless scrapheap? Hardly!"

"Where is it, Romama?
My diary?

Where have I been these ten years?"

"Suck a jelly baby and be quiet.
It won't be long now."

"I hope I get a good nose."

"There, there Doctor.
It won't be long now."


2,348 Lines





Everyone danced.
They couldn't resist it.
Every one a witness.
Write it here
Inscribe it
For everybody's memory:
Everyone danced.


Open oh book of my dreams.
I've strengthened your weakening seams
With Sellotape. Oh yes - so versatile,
I've fixed your crumbling edges in style.
Though, heavens, I've been warned
That the use of sellotape is deletorious
To items of an archival nature
and, by Jove, I do hope to see my book
Outlast myself and most creatures who
are currently
alive.

So - Give me the telephone number
Of an authorised archivist.
Who has the appropraite skills and training
To mend my book? At least it's not raining
(How often a sudden suggested rhyme
Decides the course a poem will take?)
Not raining I say, because my book
Is out in the open air. Why, take a look.
You see I live by the railway line.
It's not unpleaant, Yes, it's fine.
I live a simple life. I could be called
A hermit. I am tall and bald.
I'm not exactly either of those
But I thought a rhyme was in order.
I like, you see, on the whole a broader
style of verse. One in which rhyme
Is an occasional pleasure, and the metre
Drives the sense from measure to measure.
So here I am in my open place.
I live
here
Near the railway line.
Oh yes I've seen them all.
The locomotives come and go,
Some of the fast, some of them slow.
And I sit here in my little shed
Without a roof. Rain on my head.
And in my little sellotaped book
I record their numbers as they pass.
And here is the point, at last, of my ode.
It has such value, it's kept me happy
For year upon year. As each train passes
I note the number - and will until
I've every member of the Coronation class.
I've still some five to go.
I sit by the line below Stafford station
Waiting and waiting.
But, you know, verse fails, words fail me -
I haven't seen one for over thirty years.
When will the next one come?
When the next masterpiece by Sir William Stanier?
Where is Duchess of Buccleuch? Or Montrose?
HSTs? I've seen dozens of those
And boring trains run by electricity.
Burt when will I see

My LAST DUCHESS??????


(A poem by Robert Browning)

Sometimes in the night I think I hear it.
Chuffity chuff.
Tiddly pom. Tiddly pom.
I lift my head from the newspaper heap
And open my book. Spit on my pencil.
Wait
Alert
is that the heavy beat of Stanier Pacific?

No

Botheration.

It's the thunder of a flea in my ear.

When I will see

MY LAST DUCHESS?

Then, every number underlined,
My book will be a gift
To the William Salt Library.
A priceless local artififact.
The gift of Stafford's last true
Train spotter.

Perhaps when I've gone
Someone will underline those numbers for me

In dainty pencil.

Perhaps not.

I live in hope.

And I love you all.

Everything you need
Can be found in a book

I know this for a fact.

I went to the library and asked them.

"Do you have EVERYTHING I need?" I asked.

"Yes" said the librarian.

So, it's true.

Because Librarians (and I include in this
All the assistants too)
Are wonderful people.

I trust 'em totally.

a ding
a dang dang
a ding dang dong
a ding dang dingaling

You took me by the hand on journeys hitherto unkown to me.
We climbed mountains under water,
Walked on deserts by the sea.
You took me back in time before man came to be.
You took me to the future on a journey into space
to galaxies no earthly eye has seen.
I learned so many different things I cannot now recall.
But most of all it taught me that NOW is best of all.l

Taking a step through crinkly pages
I ventured within the mirky mists that lay before me,
My heart open to the timeless images that flickered around.
As from great oaks, the wisdom puthered forth
And seeped into my skin, innocence being smothered by enlightenment.
Clearly now, my eyes chipped away at the fictional reality
And exposed my soul to the wreckage ahead.
Pitiful figures of dark desolation
Loomed like spectres before me.
With horror, I viewed what could become of us all.
Hatred, stooping, all alone, the evils of time etched into a sallow face,
Black eyes, so tightly shut, the sun couldn't penetrate the heavy lids,
And a heart knowing only the icy blasts of cold malevolence.
Intolerance, bathing in perfection, and shunning
Any hope of a lesser form of affection,
A head so engrossed with superority, a chest heaving with misplaced bigotry,
So that every breath drawn drowns in the stench of self-absorbed supremacy,
And the flower-filled fragrances retreat in fear of stagnation.
Regret, buried in yesterday's wasted horizons,
knowing only the todays of past tomorrows,
A back turned against the promise of another day,
Futilely searching, and trying to grasp the flashes
Of hope that were never meant to be,
A face disillusioned, so wise, yet twisted, gnarled and mangled.
Sadness, a ghost of a shadow, dissolving with the pain of lamenting,
Every tear, another drop of lifeblood gone forever,
Stumbling in agony, knowing no boundaries or limits of torture,
Eyes, cast into the darkest pits, praying for a merciful glimmer,
Only to be blinded by the deeper depths within

A frame steeped in cold morbidity,
Deserted by inspiration, immersed in desperation,
Solitude and abandonment, as shackles forever.
The sudden shock of such lingering torment
Clutched my throat and choked me from within.
I could sink into the mists and be enveloped by this non-humanity forever,
Or I could make my way towards the sun.
Gasping for breath, I clawed my way through the swirling fog
And left those crinkly pages behind forever.
The memory of that book shall be with me, like a locket, hung around my neck,
And I shall cherish a smile, always.

"By hook or by crook
I'll be last in this book"...
DRAT!!!


I met you in a book.
You took me by surprise.
I was a bit different back then.
I had long hair,weighed a few stones less.
It was cold where I was,
but you soon warmed me up.
Rubbed my legs,got the life back into them
put a woolly hat on my head and bought me a cosy coat.
I'd spent all my money on booze, drugs and women,
Okay,-- I amde up the women bit.
I cried out to you Jesus - and did a u-turn
(Good job I wasn't a politician!)
You listened, you took my place on a cross and you forgave me.
Ta
I met you again, after all this,back in that book.
You really surprised me again.
Because you stepped out the pages and took my hand.
Now,I like talking with you. Dancing with you,listening to music with you and going together to festivals and doing things like that.
I still like going for walks in the middle of the night.
However, I haven't met any more street cleaners telling me "Jesus loves you". recently
I met you in a book today
This time you said you'd help me find a job.
You said if I believe in you, I won't die.
This sort of took me by surprise again.
Some say this is pie in the sky when you die,
or is it that cake on the plate while you wait?
You said you'll give me a lift up.
You told me that your'e coming back one day in the clouds,
surrounded by quite a few angels.
I don't know exactly when,
but I want to be ready.

I picked up a book of places to see.
In this place you can always find me.
This market town is a real little cracker,
I live here and I am a biscuit packer.
Chocolate and creams,plains and rusk
We pack them all from dawn to dusk.
Guess which biscuits are the best-
Elkes,of course,they beat the rest.
Do you know where we are perhaps?
Yes we're in Uttoxeter,Staffs.

I met you in a book
There you are for all who take a look.
Fact or fiction
As long as it is diction
It won't cause friction
Between you and it.
Because you take it or leave it
As your time allows,
The knowledge it gives
is yours forever
To enrich your life
Whenever you pick it up.
The only thing it costs is time.
It you have it,
Take a look at a book.

I met you in a book
Or was it on the Net?
I wonder how you look-
I haven't seen you yet.

the score is bad and its going to be sad

its a bit chilly so be a mongoose

Cheer Up Christian Gross
Oh What Can It Be
To A Sad Swiss Person
And A Bad Football Team

Cheer Up Mark McGhee
Oh What Can It Be
To A Sad Scottish Manager
And A Bad Football Team

Our Manager
Who Art At Molineux
McGhee Be Thy Name
Thy Divsion One
Thy Will Be Won
As well as the FA Cup
Give us to this day our Robbie Keane
Atkins, Osborn, Bull
Forgive us for the Albion
As we dont forgive those who support them
And lead us not into the Hawthorns
And deliver us thy promotion
For Molineux is the kingdom
The class and the glory
Come on you Wolves
Our Men (In gold)

No, quite short and flat,
like our Milk Cow

Poetry I cannot rhyme
but I'll give it a little time.
On the Internet we met,
perhaps a meeting can be set.
One of my best friends you are
even if you live afar.

Afar you are, and near and dear
for we met on the net

blood and guts all over the floor got to have a bath

I met you in a book
or maybe it was on a CD-ROM. You never know these days.

She sleeps securely in my arms
Heaven's only daughter
Sated by our lovemaking
So much a woman then
But now a lamb in childlike slumber

I gaze in wonder at this soft, sweet, sensuous angel
Who stirs my very soul
And brings an added sparkle to my jaded world
Caressing her long, luscious locks
I drink in her honeyed scent of silken skin
Watching as her breasts gently rise and fall with each shallow breath she takes
And in me, passion spent replaced by only tenderness

Before the Sandman came to claim her
We had shared once silent secrets
Secrets that dared never speak their name
And in that sacremental moment
I felt our souls reach out and call to one another
Souls across the internet, the ocean, the universe
Soaring together, like eagles on the wing

the poem that I just read
had few nice lines

the poem that you wrote
I knew it was all mine.

There was captian Kirk from Star Trek in his 15th
season was a total wreck.
Spock came a long and sang him a song
Kirk said "I quit", " what the heck"

Help me help me,Mandy Hope
My problem is I cannot cope
With my sick and injured cat
She was just sitting on the mat
When suddenly she began to yowl
And started to chew the bathroom towel
Will Animal Ark be able to treat
My pussy cat? I'll just take a seat.

I met you in a book -
All you contributors to the Worlds Longest Poem.
Some of you sad, some happy.
Some poetic. Some, sadly,
Incoherent.

And here am I, also.
Poetic, incoherent, sad
But
Fundamentally
Happy.

I use to be a saint, but those tedious officials
decided I wasn't quite their cup of tea.
I can't see why
Maybe I had too much enthusiasm, you know?
and there might have been a few things, like
suggesting that women weren't all bad
and deserved the same education as chaps.

But, the subject is books, and I would be pleased
If some of you could meet me in one of mine -
To keep my in your thoughts.
You can get one in Loeb Classical Texts,
It's green, and small. Very handy.
"An exhortation to the Greeks"

It sounds rather dry, I know, but I'm pleased with it.
It works up to a splendid climax.
You see, we weren't all stupid in 200AD,
we were as bright as you lot.
We could tell that all that mythology stuff
Was pretty thin on the whole.
It didn't have any profound meaning, nothing
deeply psychological.
Most of it (myths I mean) was about nature,
or why one lot of people were better than another
or about bodily functions.
Where does it get us? Stuck in childish ways,
Still fighting those whose ancestors were not so heroic
Or descended from lower class gods.
No, look at the world differently.
It's all a dance. Christ leads the orchestra.
(And I'm not referring rto some bloke, you know -
though I knew people who knew people who knew him - no - I mean the thing
That holds all creation together. The truth,
Who was also, in some way I can't begin to explain,
Also a chap - which isn't it so impossible -
Because when we follow the music - forgetting our stupid myths
Of race or nation
We all become part of the same truth.
We all share that holy something, that joy.

Anyone can join in. Even if in your past
You've been a minor deity or a sinner.
Forget whether you were Greek or Jew,
Or of you're man or woman (it's all one, as Paul himself said)
You can join the dance, our sobre mysteries,
(as I called them, as against
those drunken indulgent rituals
of the mystery cults)
And have the whole world to live in.

Now, that's not, in my humble opinion,
Out of date or stupid.

It's what my little book's about.

Look, here. I don't really care if you don't read it.
It's the thing itself that matters. The dance, of everyone
Free of their childish myths and mental darkness.

Forget me, Clement, too if you like.

Just try to listen, as you can if you stop
listening to yourself,
to that music.

I met you in a book
Is that how it goes?

I'm told you need about 500,000 lines.

Well I'll have a go

I met you in a book
You were suffering from a sad but minor
mental illness.
You had what they call an idee fixe.
Your conversation was to the point, but repetive.

"How are you?" I foolishly enquired.

"Not so bad, old boy,"you replied 100,000 times -
I don't jest.
It was like this:
"Not so bad old boy
Not so bad old boy
Not so bad old boy
Not so bad old boy
Not so bad old boy


(and so on....fill in the rest will you, I'm off to the Rose and Crown. I need a few after all that mental effort.)

All those forests, my dears.
All those encounters!

How many gallops on fine green grass
Before a waylaying dwarf uprears
And challenges?

So tiresome.

All those brastings-asunder!

How many careful strides through close trees
Before a knight of sombre countenance
Stands in your way?

So so tiresome.

How many stumbling paces over rocky ground
Leading a poor maimed horse
With only a misty hermits cell
To promise relief
So far from home
So far from dear repose?

So so so tiresome.

There must be something better than this.
You, sir.
You look at the book, you see the words.
You see what you want to see.
You expect a legend, a hero,
You see us colourful, tapestried, unfeeling.

Think of the cold, the pain, the blood
The dear dear horses.

No, dear Sir of the future, of the supposed "real".

See yourself here. See yourself me.

There must be something better than this.

Do you not understand how wonderful it is
That my more strong-willed colleagues
Could abandon this fraudulent ideal
Of knightly quest and gallantry
For something so poor, so hard, so glorious
As an image of a chalice, masking
The image of a broken piece of bread?

Do you think yourselves more real than they?
More real than that simple vision?

You terrible, self-deluding, life-betraying, people
who try to to make that vision just another part
Of your false fantasies of magic and delusion.

They leave the city for cold truth. For simple love.
To escape a world where dwarves issue challenges
Knights comen charging from coverts
And the poor poor horses.................

(Sir Colgrevaunce de Gore, not quite in the 13th century)

I prefer pictures, myself.

How many more lines
How many pseudonyms
Do I have to contribute
Before you decide this poem
Is not completely practical?
I'm trying to contribute every day
And I find I'm writing most of it?
Though not all.

So,at least you'll find me
in this book
In a shattered form.

Another pesudonym?
You won't find me in a book.
Oh no, little boy.
I know better than that.
Books? Dirty things.
They often contain
Undesirable material.
Oh no, you find me in a book.

Is this a book?
I rather think not, little boy.
I rather think not.
It appears to be
A load of inconsequential ravings
Recorded in purely electronic form.
You won't find me committed to paper.
Oh no
Nor bound in any form of leather, card or glue
Bondage.

Oh no.

Not at all.

"By hook or by crook
I'll be last in this book" ...
Drat!!!

Good afternoon
I am brought to you
By the makers of
"Smoothie Go"
The most effective
The most delightful
Immediate action
Emetic

You question the need of a sponsor?
I'll have you know
That this is the new commercial world
And even poems need sponsors.

When once it was a muse
It's now your favourite maker
Of instant action emetic.

Here is the poem:

Considering the daylight
as it touched Queen Cleopatra's knees

Have you ever had problems with reluctant bowel movements?

We know you all have,
Though you might be unwilling to discuss it.
We have the answer.

Try Smoothie-Go.
delicious fruit flavoured lozenges
Or in liquid form if you prefer.

Now, back to the poem

I gazed into her radiant eyes
O Queen of the Nile
Of the mysteries of the South

Yes, Smoothie-Go
It's jolly good you know.

Smoothie-Glo are interested in establishing
sponsorship deals with any brand of fine poetry.
If you wish to apply contact us
With a specimen.

Of poetry.

2,840 Lines

I was just a little school boy
When I first read Hiawatha
All about American Indians
As they lived in splendid freedom
I was haunted by the poem
By the rhythm of the poem
By the free life of the Indian
By his living close to nature
And my heart had one ambition
To learn more about the red man
So I made a vow that one day
I would see these once proud Indians
In their homes among the Rockies
In their present Reservations

Forty summers came and went by
Forty winters while I waited
Till I had sufficient money
To achieve my life's ambition
Then I flew from Heathrow Airport
Flew from London to Montreal
To the great Canadian city
There I took the iron monster
To the mountains and the prairies
Where the buffalo in their thousand
Roamed the plains in days gone by
Hunted nobly by the Indians
Slain in thousands by the white man

As the iron horse sped westward
Through the woodlands of Ontario
And the plains of Manitoba
Through the prairies of Saskatchewan
And the rangelands of Alberta
To the foothills of the Rockies
I looked out for signs of Indians
Saw the Blackfeet Reservation
And the Stoney lands at Morley
Passed through towns with names redolent
Of the glamour of the old West
Moose Jaw, Red Deer, Temiskaming
Swift Current and Medicine Hat
Then I reached the Rocky Mountains
Eagerly looked out for Indians
Met a family of Stoneys
At the Indian Trading Post

They were dressed in white man's clothing
Cowboy hats, check shirts, and trousers
And the women wore long dresses
Of a bygone age and fashion
But the women, men and children
All were wearing beaded footwear

Here I met an Indian chieftain
Dressed in fringed and beaded buckskin
On his head a feathered head-dress
With a decorated headband
And beaded discs on either side
Where the nodding eagle feathers
Crowned with fluffies, tipped with horsehair
Trailed in a descending cascade
Down his back and to his ankles
In his hand he held a tomahawk
Gay with feathers like a peace pipe
On his feet were beaded moccasins
And a sheath knife in his hip belt
His Indian name was Two Young Man

He was over eighty summers
Proud he looked, though with a sadness
On his copper coloured features
He had been a mediator
For the Army in the old days
Now received a Government pension
Lived on Morley Reservation
Where he did a little farming
Raising horses, growing food crops
And his squaw did beaded craftwork
Which she sold to make a living
And this once proud Indian chieftain
Told me of their past existence
How, before the white man entered
On to their ancestral prairies
They had lived the life of true men
Lived a life as free as eagles

In their boyhood and their manhood
They were taught the art of living
Taught the arts of war and hunting
And the gambling games of winter
They were matchless in their courage
In their bravery and endurance
In their knowledge of all wild things
In their unity with nature

Very picturesque their lives were
Dressed in fringed and beaded buckskins
And the noble feathered head dress
Worn by chiefs and sachems
Cosy were their stately teepees
Warm in winter, cool in summer
Soon erected, soon dismantled
In their nomadic existence
And he told me, in the old days
Men had taken part in raiding
Other tribes to steal their horses
Counting coup for each horse stolen
Older warriors had told him
Of their fighting with the white man
Of their bravery and courage
To protect their homes and children
Ah, no more such noble warriors
Could be found on earth as they were
Now the tribes have no incentive
Living on the Reservations
Eking out a poor existence
On the pitiful allowance
Handed to them by the Government
As recompense for the land ceded
Under treaties long forgotten
Treaties broken by the white man
Always honoured by the Indians
In those far off, tragic decades
Now the Indians are encouraged
To regain their once proud spirit
And retain their crafts and customs
Once again be self reliant
And a credit to the nation
So perhaps in future decades
They will gain their rightful status
As a well respected people
In the land they owned and fought for


I read it an a book
All about Captain Cook
Borrowed free from our
Local library
Books for all ages
With great detailed pages
Reading can help with
Your vocabulary
Improving your minds
And being precise
There's all kinds
Of books
In the cranny and the crooks
Just nip into your library
And have a good look
Knowledge can be learned
When you read a good book

I met you in a book
I couldn't work out your look
I saw you weren't an Alien that was soggy
You weren't a moggy
But I met you in a book
Eye of newt, toe of bat
A dogs tail and the ear of a cat
Nose of pig, heart of deer
Make all the schools disappear


You wrote a book of poetry
Wherein "The soldier" lay
That haunting rhyme, and place in time
Will in my memory stay

What propelled you to this outlet
Did inspiration soar
Amongst the dead, in a foreign land
Where you witnessed death the more

At the age of 27, youth was on your side
You looks, your charm, your poetry
None could be denied

But, for you, God had a purpose
Though the reason I can't see
I like to think, you're by God's side
Still writing poetry


We met, not only in a book
But in a life gone by
Lovers of an age long past
Rupert' you and I

You were the poet soldier
My rod of stainless steel
"If I should die"
The words you wrote
"Think only this of me"

Etched upon my heart, those words
For all eternity
Will still remain, till we meet again
Rupert, you and me


I opened a book and a photograph
Leapt out of the page at me
A pock marked face, with airs and grace
As confident as could be

A colonial suit with thick Cheroot
On elongated finger
Bright, crinkly eyes, that sparkled and smiled
And lips that bade me linger

An orchid in the breast pocket, of the white colonial suit
Matched the cravat and the chair where he sat
Oh, how glorious he looked

From that moment in time
I proclaimed him as mine
That book cannot be borrowed
For I'm in love, he's my turtle dove
And his name is Noel Coward


The first time I encountered you, was in a book
Namely, "The works of Rupert Brooke"
What incredible poetry - a prestigious collection
Prodigious words, stupendous selection
But best of all, and what got me hooked
Was your handsome photo on the sleeve of the book


My Karma led me to a book, wherein your picture lay Sublime
I glanced at the picture and knew you well
From another place in time

I knew you well, you recognised the little things in me
So long age it happened, it all was meant to be

So therefore, like the first time
I lay me down (just as in days of yore)
"for, now, tis a far, far better thing I do
than I have ever done before


I n another place, another time
These two hearts of ours entwined
For I have known the ecstasy of loving you
You reciprocated, loved me too
In another place, another time
In another story, another rhyme

Our minds were as one, united
Two souls in unison, complete
We tried our best to fight it
And triumphed o'er defeat

We both belonged to others
And the hurt was there for all to see
But the love that we had for each other
Was bigger than you or me

In the end, we just let it happen
That ultimate act of sin
Two hearts locked up together
Where only the selfish win

We were two hearts locked up, together
For all eternity
Bound up in a book, a story
Just about you and me


Gerry's got a lovely car
You see it gleaming from afar
He polishes it with pride and joy
It really is his special toy
He takes it out once a week
It's dripping oil, he's got a leek
Two bald tyres and a dodgey gear
Someone's hit it up the rear
The bonnets bent and full of holes
But to Gerry it's a shining Rolls
There he is goes, down the Queens highway
It'll never make it through the day


He's alone now his wife's departed
Leaving him so broken hearted
A silent house, an empty chair
Is all this too much to bear
He sits and thinks of days gone by
Memories are sweet. He starts to cry
He longs to hold her hand again
And go wandering down the lane
He sets the table just for one
And can't believe she's really gone
He carries on as best he can
His son will visit in the van
He's asked to tea just once a week
Happy children there to greet
They pull his beard and kiss his head
Then mother takes them up to bed
It's not so bad when you live alone
And he's not one to moan and groan



In nineteen seventy six, a year now long gone by
Dr and Mrs O'Dempsey thought to try
To start a movement for a great charity
And so began the Stafford Borough Committee
Of the charity now called Macmillan Cancer Relief
Which has expanded quite beyond belief
With the enthusiasm, care and concern
Of the volunteers who take their turn
To help raise the funds to bring the care
To those with cancer who have their share
Of the hardship, the agony and the pain
They often suffer again and again.
The committee still hope to raise
Lots of funds to help to erase
The suffering of those found to be
Unable to cope as we can see.
So please can we who strive to relieve
The distress and discomfort we perceive
Have support and help to further our case
Without a stop or a pause


I met you in a book
From shelves replete with volumes.
Its jacket tinged with dust
The title full of promise.

I met you in a book.
A tome I chose to borrow.
We read each page aloud
Expressing joy or sorrow.

I met you in a book
Absorbing, cheerful, sad.
You led me by the hand
Engrossed, enriched and glad.

I met you in a book
We wandered thro' the pages
Learned much amongst its leaves
And ventured down the ages.

I met you in a book
You set my life aflame.
My author and my muse,
Midst hardship, hurt and pain.

I met you in a book
You made me what I am.
You taught me all I know
Were tutor to the man.

I met you in a book
We kissed between the covers.
Then parted in a dream
Two true, devout booklovers.


Our friend Andy's off again
Down to London to catch the train
France is where he's heading for
To seek the arts and to explore
There certainly is lot to do
Countryside and Chateaux's too
Monets garden, that's a treat
There he'll find himself a seat
He'll dream of paintings old and new
A glass of wine, enjoy the view
The Louvre museums where he'll head
To see the work of masters dead
The Moulin Rouge he'll call and see
Afterwards he'll have his tea
The French he learned he speaks with ease
The people there he try's to please
Then home he'll come, with his duty free
Bonjour Monsieur's, C'est la vie


Doctor I'm in trouble
Well goodness gracious me
A club note for two weeks will do
A fortnight by the sea
I'll take the pills at break of day
A cure I'm sure's not far away
I'll sun myself and get a tan
It's great to have a caravan
A postcard Doc to you I'll send
To let you know I'm on the mend
Good food, fresh air, a sea breeze
You should try it Doc. It's just for you
Don't work too hard while I'm away
I'll be back soon. I'm short of pay


The Postman calls twice a day
Bringing news from far away
Holiday postcards from distant lands
With people lazing on the sands
Christmas is a busy time
Followed soon by Valentine
Birthdays are such special times
With cards delivered bearing rhymes
The Postman knocks RAT TAT TAT
Then he leaves a parcel on the mat
The Happiness he posts us through
Will make us smile and not feel blue


My friend Lynn has a lovely grin
Her friend Sue is never blue
Dorothy's always telling jokes
Chris is always eyeing blokes
But Margaret just stays home at night
Veronica, well she's quite bright
Sheila bakes and scurries round
Pat's a gem I'll be bound
Faye, she has a lovely way
Barbara dreams all the day
My friends are patient, kind and true
And pick me up when I'm feeling blue

3,212 Lines


"by hook or by crook
I'll be last in this book" ...
DRAT!!!

Virtual library?

Virtual poetry?

Do you know nothing of form
Context
Meaning?

All this rubbish when the people of Stafford
Need a new library with room
For more books.

Leave electronic information to the people
Who provide electronic information.

We still need books, and knowledge
Not dead, valueless information.

A poem is a work, an object.
It's form is a vast part of the thing.

A poem can't be endless

Or it's just words, valueless words.

Poetry
I love it
It makes me go
wheeeeeeeeeeeee
It makes me skip likethe daisies do
When they sprout fairy wings
With gleeeeeeeeeee
They're so dainty
Yes indeed!

Poetry
Give me acres of it
Hundreds of pages of the delicious syruppy
Exquisite wonderful thingy of it

Poetry
It makes my heart race
It makes my bowel spin
Oh I use Smoothie-go
It's the recommended emetic for poets
(An example of poetic product placement)

Poetry
Give me paper give me pens
Give me electrical devices
On the
internet!

I'll write and write and write
until

My brain's in freefall
Spinning like my elegant bowels!

Thankyou.

I sit at my desk and open the book.
It must be months since I took a look
And what does it say to me today?
It says it's time to go and play!
But how can I go when I'm feeling low?
I've tried so hard but I cannot go!

(Aha! Listen to a word from our sponsors....)

I sit at my desk and open the book.
It must be months since I took a look
And what does it say to me today?
It says it's time to go and play!
But how can I go when I'm feeling low?
I've tried so hard but I cannot go!

(Aha! Listen to a word from our sponsors....)

and now the digital poem

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5

(SURELY SOME MISTAKE? ED)

Are you beginning to see the meaning?
No?
Well, read on
(This really is the most all embracing
culturally diverse poem
since
The waste land

By jove
Yes

I like books that tell you things to do.
Making things with paper
painting, sticky glue
Which reminds me
My mother swears by Smoothie-Go
It keeps her bowels spell-bindingly regular.
I have no need of such things myself
as I have a strong metabolism
and keep to the simple healthy diet
Of the true poet.

Here are recorded the names
Of those locomotives who
were heros on the Edinburgh line:

Melton
Lemberg
Donovan
Doncaster
Galtee More
Persimmon
Blink Bonny
Prince Palatine
Sansovino
Woolwinder
Centenary
Ormonde
Blair Athol
Tracery
The Tetrarch
Pretty Polly
Minoru
Insinglass
William Whitelaw
Knight of the Thistle
Merry Hampton
Ladas
Sir Visto
Sceptre
Gladiator
Tranquil
Sunstar
St Gatien
Harvester
St Frusquin
Galopin
The White Knight
Night Hawk
Bayardo
Dick Turpin
Shotover
Niel Gow
Sir Hugo
Felstead
Grand Parade
Captain Cuttle
Fairway
Coronach
Colorado
Flamingo
Papyrus
Humorist
Spion Kop
Trigo
Manna
Gainsborough
Blenheim
Book Law
Call Boy
Spearmint
Cicero
Windsor Law
Colombo
Hyperion
Firdaussi
Sandwich
Cameronian
Salmon Trout
Singapore
Brown Jack

Tears are shed at the naming of the engines
Heros whose passing is recorded
In the Ian Allan British Railways locomotives
Omnibus edition

These fragments are shored against my ruin

These words, these dreams
Pursue me on the wide desert
Of the blank page
Is there water anywhere
Is there an oasis
Where my parched brain
May find refreshment from the dry words
The 500,000 dry words
Dry as grains of the desert sand?
The dry words of this desert?

So long a poem
so many thoughts
and such delibitating incoherence
Isn't it
Isn't it
Time for a song?

You asked for a song oh master
To relieve the pain of the desert of words?
Is notation permitted?
How can I add a tune
To this alphabetic wasteland?

I could adopt the Antique Greek notation,
Or force the computer to reproduce
The medieval neum

But how?

No chance for originality - so
Sing to a tune we all know>
Sing, reader of the World's Longest Poem!
Whoever you may be, in your home, in your library
In your Education Dept office -
Sing aloud the tune to show your joy
In your journey through the WLP
The tune : "Sing as we go" made popular
By the Rochdale lass herself.
Sing

La la la la
la la la la!

Sing!

You asked for a song oh master
To relieve the pain of the desert of words?
Is notation permitted?
How can I add a tune
To this alphabetic wasteland?

I could adopt the Antique Greek notation,
Or force the computer to reproduce
The medieval neum

But how?

No chance for originality - so
Sing to a tune we all know>
Sing, reader of the World's Longest Poem!
Whoever you may be, in your home, in your library
In your Education Dept office -
Sing aloud the tune to show your joy
In your journey through the WLP
The tune : "Sing as we go" made popular
By the Rochdale lass herself.
Sing

La la la la
la la la la!

Sing!

sING?

bUT i AM

SO SAD

Jean Stanley
Jean Stanley
You ARE A LOVELY PERSON
wE ADMIRE YOU SO MUCH
oUR HEROINE
oF sTAFFORD lIBRARY

Lucy loves reading three little pigs in the evening with mummy

I think it was an adventure book about 500 pages long I read it 17 times.

If life's a journey
Why rush to the end?

butiful as the day
on this world i would like to stay

The bank was busy that day
You handed me your pass book
Our eyes met in such a way
I needed a closer look
Now we're married with 2.4 kids
All for the sake of a book!



I started with the Famous Five
And then moved on to Faust
It's difficult to say which
I enjoyed the most!



So many words, so many lines
all put together over a period of time
the outcome so plain to see
is a book full of poetry
to suit you and me!

The thing I really cannot abide
Is being on a long car ride.
My sister is poisonous asking for
food ,
My Brother is always in such a bad mood
The thing I really cannot abide
Is being on a long car ride.

The thing I cannot be fussed about
Is when my mother starts to shout,
She goes as crazy as a daisy growing in
a crop of maize .
The thing I cannot be fussed about is when my mother starts to shout.

The national lotterys on a saturday night
There are lots of numbered balls and their colours
are bright
As you receive the tickets you dream of winning
But this is only the beginning

And the pound has been spent

The first balls coming and your eyes are stuck
Your watching and hoping for good luck
But its not you today
Nevermind you can play next week anyway

So theres for gambling and trying to win
If I were you I should give in.

Your small white form dropped unregarded form the oak/
Into a guest's champagne: Bill James's joke.



TODAY I CAME INTO TOWN
AND THE RAIN CAME POURING DOWN
SO I VISITED THE SHIRE HALL
SO AN INTERESTING TIME WAS HAD BY ALL

I MET YOU IN A BOOK,
I THINK YOU ARE COOL,
YOU WEAR ALL BLACK,
AND YOUR PHOTO'S RULE.

I met you in a book,
And as soon as I had a look,
I decided you were not for me,
Never mind better luck next time.

I met you in a book.
Charlie, Mr. Wonka, Josephine, Georgina,
The Ompa Loompas,
the Vermiciuos Knids never caught you in the Great Glass Elevator.
Violet Beauregard and Mike TV, I met you in The Chocolate Factory.
POOH and Christopher Robin, I met you in a book,
we learned to play Pooh-Sticks together, Kersplash.

Snow.
We slide down a hill.
We slide on Giant Feet.
We made a giant Snowman whose name is Ned.
We fed the birds some Bread.
I love to read in my bed.
Snow is good for me and you, for men and women and horses too.

There were dreams there, I remember,
But they faded.
The delights of literature
Are jaded.
I leave them, open my eyes to life.
Reality pain, cuts like a knife,
But it's a dialogue. We can reply
To angry words with love before we die.

Is there any book with the recipe
That will reawaken my tired brain?
It might be a spell, using esoteric herbs,
Or a humble kind of cake or bun.
Just a recipe for repose and recreation
Of a tired and heavy brain.
I doubt it.
I doubt it very much indeed.



Oh how I wish that I had
A clever, inventive, loving dad
like Danny champion of the world

What a hoot when the pheasants dropped
the shoot just had to be stopped
funny drunken birds.

I
met
U
IN
a
B O O K
U
were
driving a cabbage car past the stop sign
book Trucks, piles of books on shelves, and
in files
pictures
were
my only words but
now I have you
It snows, everybody goes
the plow goes first

I tried to find you in a book -
But they said
"The books are all in the reserve stack.
You can request one. Look it up in the catalogue
first"
But how can the catalogue tell me
If the book is useful, beautiful, if it contains
The knowledge I require
Or the words to describe
Your beauty?

How many people like me
Regret thge closure of the Friar's Terrace library?
How many depended on those books?
They said they were old -
But what does age matter
For history, literature, theology, poetry?
They said too few people them -
But many did - were we not worth anything?
Are people who want serious knowledge
No longer valued?

Isn't that what libraries are for?
Where do we go now?

Oh my name is Gallimaufry Hedgetickle
My name is Gallimaufry Hedgetickle
My name is Gallimaufry Hedgetickle

And I've nothing else to say!!!!

Oi. If you want me in your book
You gotta cough up. Know what I mean.
I don't do nuffin for nuffin.
Know what I mean?
Waz it worf to you then? Waz it worf
Havin me in yoyr book?
Come on, cough up. Waz it worf?
Boodle. Cabbage. Know what I mean?
Grase the palm. Hand me the spondulics.
You don't get nuffin for nuffin.
Know what I mean?
I don't come cheap. Words is money.
Know what I mean?
So waz it worf to you? Give me a pahnd.
Jus a pahnd. Ten bob a word? Look
I'll do you half a dozen words for ten bob.
Call that a bargain?
I call that a bargain. Give us the dosh mate
Then you get the words. Know what I mean?
Cause if you don't
I'll thump ya.

Presumably
All we who contribute to this poem
Retain our copyright?

You will need to have our permission to publish this material in any form

That will involve payment.
Money

And that, to me, is poetry.

Snow white was the prettiest girl
The world had ever seen

But soon her joy was snatched away
By the filthy rotten queen.

The Seven Dwarfs,they were her friends,
They gave her love and care

And in the end she married a prince
He was bold and debonair

" I met you in a book,"
Upon one day,
In the second chapter,
With a cricket bat and ball,
You were in a cricket tournament,
Fighting for fun,
The sun was going down,
And you lost!
But you didn't mind,
You were happy.

Young Maggie Tulliver tried to please,
To live for others and bear the pain,
Her sacrifice of love she gave,
To her brother she gave her life,
Now here in Dorlocote does her memory lie.
The unforgotten heroine of our time.

I met you in a book
You were my first and only friend.
I dare say I was yours! No - probably not,
You seem to be the kind to have scores,
Hang in, hang on you silly boy,
I'm not going back yet you know -
To Fairy Land I mean -
I jumped out and met you, so I have to go back one day, though.
You mean to make more people happy,
To give them joy and laughter.
Then one day, say to them like you said to me,
Goodbye dear friends I have to go one day you know.
Don't be jealous I will come back to be your friend and partner,
But there are other people you know and that is where I must go.
Goodbye my friend, Oh please come back -
I will I promise.
One day I went to the library
A good book I wanted to find
The shelves were certainly loaded -
And I was very soon immersed in the
Wonderful world of words,
Friends came out of the pages
And very soon I was sharing their lives,
Excitement, happiness and drama
Tokk me away from the ordinary world
Books are real friends.

I met you in a book,
I met you in a town,
I met you in a city,
and now you wear a crown.
I met you in a book shop,
I met you in a kingdom.
I want to know some more.



Winnie the Pooh,
Is everyones favourite bear,
and Piglet is his best friend,
Kanga's little Roo,
Plays with Tigger,
And Christopher Robin too,
Eeyore in his gloomy spot,
Needs cheering up again,
A game of Pooh sticks,
Is what he needs,
So Rabbit and Owl join in.

There once was an ugly duckling
Ignored by everyone,
Little did they know
He'd grow up to be a swan.

The gingerbread Man ran from the house
So he would not be eaten.
But when he came across the river
It seemed that he was beaten.

The cunning fox he said to him
"I'll carry you 'cross the water."
Ginger then agreed to this
'Twas not long before his slaughter.

For this next tale we've Thomas to thank.
His friend called Gordon slipped down the bank.
He slid and fell into the ditch water
He couldn't get out though he knew that he ought 'a.

There was a young postman called Pat
Well know for his black and white cat.
Each day he delivered the letters and parcels
To all sorts of houses from semis to castles.

One day as he wandered down a small country lane,
Pat caught a glimpse of what he thought was a plane.
In fact what soon landed on top of his head,
Was some newly washed linen from Mrs Mopple's bed!

Her washing had blown into all fields close by
On the cows'horns were gloves half covering one eye,
The rabbit now wore a red handkerchief
that made him feel proud and all others beneath.

One final tale in this summary of books
Is all about strawberries and mice that are crooks.
To keep that red strawberry the mouse used his brains
He dragged it back home and locked it in chains.
The bear was too late for even a slice
Both halves went to the rodents,a victory for mice!

I'll carry you 'cross the water.

I met you in a book,
That's why I had to have a look,
At the books at first I'd overlooked,
So to books I'm now hooked.
You showed me the wonders,
Of great books, mine, yours, his and hers,
I've now read books of which I'd never heard.
To love books, I have learned.

Your name but please not today

Don't look at the sky,
the clouds will fall down.
Don't spoil your smile
with that old frown.
The world is a laugh,
We only live once
Get your boogie boots on,
and get up and dance.

Curious, the chanting rhythm
Of the song of Hiawatha
should inspire a soul so strongly
to explore the tragic culture
Of the natives of America.

this relentless formal metre
Wasn't born around the campfire
Of the native north American
Longfellow, inventive poet
Found it in the first translation
Into English of the epic
Of the ancient Finnish people.
This is how the folk of Finland
Chant the ancient Kalevala
How they tell the old adventures
Of Kullervo, Leminkainen,
He who saw the death white swan tribe
In the lands of Kuolema.

All the same - how can anyone
Visit North America unmoved
By the tragic situation of the native Americans?

A country so obsessed with equal opportunities
Shuts these people in reservations.
Go stew in your own culture, they seem to say.
So they mooch around drinking.
The look for ways of making money,
and open casinos by the highway.
Is this their culture?

Surely a people with such a tradition
Of sympathy with nature
Could be welcomed out into the cities
To be educated, to get good jobs,
To be able to graft that high-minded culture
Into the stock of the USA?

That would be a living culture,
A sense of purpose and responsibility.
But no - stay in your reservation red man.
We'll protect your independence.
Just don
't walk our city streets.
Don't show us your embarrassing dark faces.
Rake in the cash from gambling
And buy yourselves some more bourbon.

Our story continues as we turn each page,
ever onwards towards much brighter days.
We now forget the pages turned,
keep in our minds the lessons learned.
So many secrets still to see,
the chapters of our lives to be.
What mysteries will each page unfold,
of hopes and joys yet still untold?.

we'll find our futures in this book
and see which path through life we took.
Our destiny may seem unclear
but hand in hand we'll have no fear.
Printed out in rhyme and verse
deep within this book immersed.

I like books to read,
Don't kick or rip them.
They're very precious to me when them I need.

I had a little nut tree
Nothing would it bear,
but a silver nutmeg
and a golden pear.
The king of spain's daughter
came to visit me
and all for the sake of that little nut tree!

Past the dirty dingy streets
Where children lie in exhausted heaps
A half-wick candle swallowed
by the empty night...
Hush little Johnny safe out of sight.
An empty room with walls too thin
Like paper hats that tear in the wind
Only interrupted by the last long drawn breath
Which has departed from this world
Comforted by the presence of the Holy Word...

But wait for crystal glasses,merry-dancing,flouncing
dresses and suited men dance the dainty quadrilles they have learned
Upon a feasted table lies,
oysters,meats,desserts and wines.
A drawing room of gaiety
Where splendour and pleasure provide.
Thoughtless chatter courted ladies whose painted lips I search to please,
Whilst knowing men reign gallant and supreme...

Why dampen the spirits of a happy man
Close his eyes he cannot see
The haunting world of poverty.
Yet these worlds do entwine
And what seemed so far removed
Becomes so parallel when the sand-slipped moment arrives
with the descent of our friend Time.



The Hobbit is a creature with little pointy ears and a
Turned up nose like a pig's.
Bilbo Baggins is his name.
He lives in the side of a hill with a door coated the finest
Blue and inside, there is sparkling furniture that looks like
New.

I met you in a book
A boy called Harry Potter.
And you took,at holiday time,
My grandchildren and me
To a magic world of wizards,
Flying cows,an angry tree!
Good contested evil.
Harry triumphed with his friends
But only just in time,
Before the summer term,it - ends.

Beside the bubbling,babbling brook
My hand did you take
My side you did not forsake.
I am glad now you are here
Now everything is so very clear.
I felt that of me you were so far
Like the misty morning star.
As far away as the southern lands
Timelessly removed like the shifting sands.
Like a planet way up high
I could but only heave and sigh.
Many tears did I shed in that time
Salty as the sea-water brine.
The lonely night and lonely morn
As I arose each day,every dawn.
Nightly I prayed a fervent prayer for you
Glad to be your woman,virtuous and true.
I always felt your spirit so close
Glad to be the one you chose.
I would gladly call myself your wife
For you I would give my precious life.
The child that I hope to conceive
Will never fill our hearts with grief.
My prayer is your prayer,your prayer is mine
Surely of this there is a sign.
Pray for me,I will pray for you.
For people like me there are but a few.
What tender loving words we share
What a handsome coupled pair.
My darling husband,my dearest friend
For you I would raise the world no end
Remember the day we shared those words
Which only I and the Lord heard
Words which held such special meaning
To people gifted with wise gleaning.
Darling man,the one whom I love
We fit together like hand and glove.
your footsteps did not falter
The vows I did not alter
Instead I visited you night after night
Like a bird flying,soft as a kite.
Did you hear my whisper feel my touch
As if I was an image in a book?
Or did you turn upon your side
And think of me your loving bride,
And remember the day we stood by the pool
Picking flowers fresh and cool.
I have given you my heart,you have given me yours,
Surely in this there lies no flaws.
Darling husband those days now are gone.
As you sit by me now under the fiery sun.
Your face do I see,your voice do I hear
As I hold you close,warm and dear.
I will give to you as long as I live,
For I know only how to love and give.
You are more to me,more than a friend
To you heartfelt thoughts I send.
I will aken you with a smile each wondrous day,
And then I will kiss you and ask you to pray.
We will both thank God for what we have been blessed.
For we are only together and His Deep Behest.
Dearest darling and thank you God
For keeping us alive in the earth we have trod.
And then you will look deeply into my eyes
And know of the tears I had once cried.
Your warm consoling hand will I feel
The touching stroke of toe against heel.
And our hearts together shall entwine
Like the rosemary and celandine.
And you will whisper words into my ear
Which will fill my soul with gladsome cheer.
And then sit me down
and say with tender frown
I did not mean to hurt you so
But how darling could I let you know
That the time we were apart
You were my tender loving heart.
Icould not care more than I did for you
Oh darling now you know I am here true
Look at me and say those words
I coould not care more than I did for you



Beside the bubbling,babbling brook
My hand did you take
My side you did not forsake.
I am glad now you are here
Now everything is so very clear.
I felt that of me you were so far
Like the misty morning star.
As far away as the southern lands
Timelessly removed like the shifting sands.
Like a planet way up high
I could but only heave and sigh.
Many tears did I shed in that time
Salty as the sea-water brine.
The lonely night and lonely morn
As I arose each day,every dawn.
Nightly I prayed a fervent prayer for you
Glad to be your woman,virtuous and true.
I always felt your spirit so close
Glad to be the one you chose.
I would gladly call myself your wife
For you I would give my precious life.
The child that I hope to conceive
Will never fill our hearts with grief.
My prayer is your prayer,your prayer is mine
Surely of this there is a sign.
Pray for me,I will pray for you.
For people like me there are but a few.
What tender loving words we share
What a handsome coupled pair.
My darling husband,my dearest friend
For you I would raise the world no end
Remember the day we shared those words
Which only I and the Lord heard
Words which held such special meaning
To people gifted with wise gleaning.
Darling man,the one whom I love
We fit together like hand and glove.
your footsteps did not falter
The vows I did not alter
Instead I visited you night after night
Like a bird flying,soft as a kite.
Did you hear my whisper feel my touch
As if I was an image in a book?
Or did you turn upon your side
And think of me your loving bride,
And remember the day we stood by the pool
Picking flowers fresh and cool.
I have given you my heart,you have given me yours,
Surely in this there lies no flaws.
Darling husband those days now are gone.
As you sit by me now under the fiery sun.
Your face do I see,your voice do I hear
As I hold you close,warm and dear.
I will give to you as long as I live,
For I know only how to love and give.
You are more to me,more than a friend
To you heartfelt thoughts I send.
I will aken you with a smile each wondrous day,
And then I will kiss you and ask you to pray.
We will both thank God for what we have been blessed.
For we are only together and His Deep Behest.
Dearest darling and thank you God
For keeping us alive in the earth we have trod.
And then you will look deeply into my eyes
And know of the tears I had once cried.
Your warm consoling hand will I feel
The touching stroke of toe against heel.
And our hearts together shall entwine
Like the rosemary and celandine.
And you will whisper words into my ear
Which will fill my soul with gladsome cheer.
And then sit me down
and say with tender frown
I did not mean to hurt you so
But how darling could I let you know
That the time we were apart
You were my tender loving heart.
I could not care more than I did for you
Oh darling now you know I am here true
Look at me and say those words
That only you and the Lord heard.
Oh darling I will say these words every day
And nothing on earth could make me sway
My darling I am indeed a lucky woman
By your side I will always stand
And so we will stand by the precious dawn
Thinking of our children as pure as the morn
And the stars will slowly melt away
As holy night sinks into tender day.


I went with you to Pemberley -
That dangerous joy I shared.
It was like trying on his clothes,
I wondered that you dared!
And when he helped your sister,
I felt your heart turn round.
Two centuries on I knew your thoughts,
And shared what you had found.
I met you in a book,
Your aunts were greedy and selfish,
You flew in a big orange ball
And made a home in stone
James the gentle genius.
I met you in a book,
You pricked your finger and fell asleep
You were woken by a princely kiss
And lived happily ever after
Sleeping Beauty lives forever.

Here's an invitation for you,to
write a lpoetry line or two,
If you are able to write some
more,
fill the page help the score.
"I met you in a book" is the
theme,
and we need pages by the ream.
Remember a poem doesn't have
to rhyme,
So a word from you, please find
the time.
Then in the Guinness book of
records see,
some woderful lines of poetry!

I met you in a book of fairies.......

I wish I was a fairy with golden wings
My name would be Mary,
I'd marry a king.

I wish I was a fairy with a pink gown,
I'd sway beneath palm leaves
And go out on the town.

I wish I was a fairy with a necklace of flowers
I'd dance on down a daisy,
For hours and hours.

I wish I was a fairy, in a story book,
I'd be read by little children,
And everyone would look.



I met you in a fairy tale,
Goblins and fairies,giants and trolls,
Extraordinary things happen!
Heroes so strong and fit,
Beautiful fairies with glittery wings,
Evil with withches with magic powers,
Black cats with glittering eyes
Giants stamping the ground,
Ugly goblins playing tricks,
There are thousands of fairy tales to enjoy.

There was a rabbit called Peter Rabbit,
Who had rather a bad habit,
Of eating stolen carrots.
Some parrots saw Peter eating the stolen carrots ,
So they decided to swop them for dynomite.
Then Peter lost his head,
And now he's dead in bed!

I met you in a book,
You were in a hole,
Just like a mole,
You were not badger or mole or ratty,
You were not happy or sad or bad,
You were a hobbit,
Who was called Frodo,
whose uncle Bilbo was in the book before,
the land of magic and danger and mystery,
That I travelled with you on a ride to Mordor,
Where the great ring was to be destroyed,
In the pits of Rondor where it had been made,
It was deceptive,
as it looked so harmless,
But deep inside its pure gold syurface,
lay a heart of magic,
Not white but black,
I met you in a book,
Frodo Baggins of the Shire,
How J.R.R Tolken must have toiled at the desk,
To make you come to life,
Yes, I met you in a book

My steady eyes cast over you,
Standing proud and tall,
Scowling there in front of me,
But you're not there at all.

My hand stretched slowly out to you,
To ruffle your tangled hair,
To pet your mangy mongrel dog,
But you weren't really there.

My ears, they prick up for you,
To hear your heavy tread,
To hear the clomping of your boots,
But no sounds entered my head.

My nose sniffs hard,
To smell your scent,
To breathe your smell of muck,
But no, nothing, you're not real -
I met you in a book.

The pages ruffle beneath my hands,
Casting a warm fiction breeze,
I inhale slowly - take it in,
The book quivers on my knees.
Suddenly a 'pop' is heard,
A man appears on the page,
He sits cross-legged, head in hands,
Trapped in his litrituary cage.
I watch him carefully, for a while,
Proceeding to shake his hand,
He tells me he is rather bored,
Then melts away to sand!
Each time I look into the book,
His illustration winks at me,
A tiny smile grows on his face,
Where his sad frown used to be.
I think of him as my friend,
He also gives my luck,
To me he is as real as life -
The man I met in a book.



The pages ruffle beneath my hands,

Casting a warm fiction breeze,

I inhale slowly - take it in,

The book quivers on my knees.



Suddenly a 'pop' is heard,

A man appears on the page,

He sits cross-legged, head in hands,

Trapped in his litrituary cage.



I watch him carefully, for a while,

Proceeding to shake his hand,

He tells me he is rather bored,

Then melts away to sand!



Each time I look into the book,

His illustration winks at me,

A tiny smile grows on his face,

Where his sad frown used to be.



I think of him as my friend,

He also gives my luck,

To me he is as real as life -

The man I met in a book.

I met you in a book
You were huge and slobbery
You had a big mouth
You ate human meat
Your friends stayed asleep
But you were beaten by a pin
I'm glad I finished that book.

I met you in a book
You were friendly and brave,
You were young and persistant
You were clever and honest
You searched fortreature and went to find it
You were successful
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You had long white ears
You had a waistcoat
You thought you were late
You ran down a hole and disappeared
Though you weren't that friendly
You were in a hurry
For an important job
Too rushed to think
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You were clever and young
You lived in a lovely house
You had a very nasty head teacher
You had magic
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You wore ribbons in your hair,
I met you in a book
Your magic powers mystified and dazzled,
I met you in a book,
You had such wicked parents,
I met you in a book,
Miss Honey was your hero.
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book,
You won a golden ticket, in a choccy bar,
I met you in a book.
To a place of sugar you did venture,
I met you in a book,
Now don't be greedy, it cause your end,
I met you in a book
You could have bought me some cholcolate from your little trip,
I'm quite happy I met you in a book.

I met you in a book,
You were such wicked people,
I met you in a book
You treated kids mean, so they wouldn't be seen,
I met you in a book,
You got what you deserved, the dreaded shrinks,
I met you in a book
You shrunk until you could no more, then PUFF gone forever,
I wish I hadn't met you in a book.

I met you in a book,
Your owner won you at a fair,
You grew up not knowing who your mother was
You proved the sheepdog wrong
But you are good at being one,
I wish I hadn't met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You were pink and little and tried to build a house,
You had two brothers who also were pink
You were scared of the big bad wolf
Who huffed and puffed and tried to blow your house down
I'm glad I met you in a book

I met you in a book
Your parents dumped you in the woods
You have a brother who was also dumped in the woods.
You came to a candy house and went in
A witch tried to cook you alive
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You were blue and magic
You came out of a lamp
You had a deep voice
You gave wishes of any choice
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book.
Your eyes put me to sleep
You made me dizzy
Your eyes were bright and
You wore a black cloak
I'm glad I didn't meet you in a book.

I met you in a book
You are clever and furry
And you had three enemies
Who wanted to kill you
You are truly fantastic
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book,
Your dark, sleek coat is beautiful
You were loved by many
And your two friends who you lost
One was Merry and the other Ginger
I'm glad I met you in a book

I met you in a book
You were like the average woman
Except for your square feet
Wide nostrils, bhlue spit, long claws
Ane your bald head.
I wouldn't have noticed you
And I wouldn't have been here today
If it was not for my grandma,
I wish I hadn't met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You lived underground/overground with your friends
And had a big long nose.
You spent your time litter-picking
In your tartan waist-coat, tiny glasses and hat.
You were furry all over with big feet.
I wasn't glad I met you in a book when you started singing!!

I met you in a book
You lived with two horrible old bags
Who treated you like a slave
And made your life a misery
I was very happy when you managed to escape
And make lots of friends who cared for you
You always believed in magic, didn't you?!
I was very glad I'd met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You were so tiny
You used dolls funiture for your home
You fought to keep your home
You were so brave
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You watched TV all day
You sat inside your house
Never went out to play
Your name is Mike Teevee
You were a little plonker
The big mistake you made
Was meeting Willie Wonker

I met you in a book
You live in the woods
Wear a red cape
Go and see your grandmother
But a nasty wolf tries to stop you
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met them in a book
They are ugly, smelly, big
Small all different colours
Kill people and animals
I'm glad I didn't meet them in a book.

I met you in a book
You wear a black cape
Have a companion called Robin
He saves people's lives
He's got an ememy called Joker
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You are seven years old
You have an imaginary friend
You're in a hotel for the winter
Your finger can talk
Your dad is insane
I'm glad I met you in a book.



I met you in a book
You had big fangs
You had a big loud roar
I wish I never met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You were small with bruises all over your arms and legs
You couldn't reach the coat
I'm glad I met you in a book!

I met you in a book
Later on in life you were healthy looking
Your mom wanted you back
You went
She nearly killed you and your little sister
Your little sister died,
You didn't.
You went back to your old friend
Your mom cimmitted suicide. How sad!
I'm glad I met you in a book!

I met you in a book
You were little and pink
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You were an ugly dog
And you were big
And you wrecked the house.
You always drank out of the fish tank.
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
Years and years ago youu lived in a mansion
You've white cobwebs hanging off your head and clothes.
You're headless
But you found your head in the end
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You had a big green wart on your nose
And you ahd big teeth and a big nose
And a big balck hat
And a spooky castle and a broom
I wish I hadn't met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You made your grandma grow then shrink to nothing
You used everything in the house.
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You started little and furry
But grew to be big and furry
You made a family
And caught a crook
I'm glad I met you in a book.



I met you in a book
You were small
You were magical
Your father was a user
I'm glad I met you in a book

I met you in a book
You were a boy, a girl, you were both
You were funny, you were messy
You were the naughty one out of the whole of the school
I'm glad I met you in a book

I met you in a book
Ugly and eating everything that got in your way
I'm glad I never met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You can climb walls
And you can fly
I'm glad I met you in a book

I met you in a book
You are both ugly
Your hair is straggly and knotted
You have a glass eye
You eat bird pie
I wish I hadn't met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You live with your wife
Always playing tricks on her and her on you
I wish I hadn't met you in a book

I met you in a book
You were once poor
But a chocolate bar changed your luck for ever
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You were skinny and sickly looking
Very, very pale
You could hear bombs
You were scared
You met new friends in the village
You had one best friend
I'm glad I met you in a book

I met you in a book
You were tall and old
You were kind
You took a boy to your home
You taught him not to be scared
You told him not to be worried
You would help him all the way
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You are a small little girl
Who wanted to go to school
You like books
I'm glad I met you in a book

I met you in a book
I wish I could have ridden you
The old lady worked hard on you
She gave you away to the mean on Phinodree
I'm glad I didn't meet you in a book.

I met you in a book
You were a boy and a girl
You were the naughtiest in school
You were weird but
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You were very ugly
A crime fitter and have a black car
And a black suit
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You were poor and helpless
As you passed the factory each day
You wished that the gates would open
Then one day your chocolatey dread came true
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You were both very ugly and smelt
You tried to trick each other
You ate disgusting food
You did revolting things
I wish I hadn't met you in a book

I met you in a book
You were very small
You helped to spin a wheel
You thought they wouldn't find your name
You wanted that baby after all
I'm glad I met you in a book

I met you in a book
You were only a small cub
You wanted to explore
You were tricked and ran away
You came back to save your family
I'm glad I met you in a book.

I met you in a book
You were born into a horrid family
But paid them back with your powers
You were full of life
Loved reading
I'm glad I met you in a book.

You lived with your aunties
but they were horrible to you.
They made you work very hard
and they didn't love you.

One day a little old man
gave you a bag of tiny green things
and a beautiful tree grew and grew
with a big yellow and pink fruit on it.

You climbed inside
and a flock of birds carried you away
to have some wonderful adventures
and to meet lots of new friends.

You will never be lonely again.

I met you in a book
You like huny
you have a red top
you are yellow.

I met you in a book
you are kind
you are nice
you are in a book
I met you in a book.



I met you in a book

She's very nauty
she's very keen on books

she's magic
she likes her teacher
she has got lots of books

THIS IS A NOTE TO CHRISTINE
EVER SO SMALL AND TRUE
ROSES ARE RED
VIOLETS ARE BLUE
WE'RE ALREADY 50
NOW YOU ARE TOO
YOU'LL NOTICE MANY CHANGES
SOME YOU MAY HAVE SEEN
BUT OTHERS HAPPEN SLOWLY
AND CREEP UP IN BETWEEN
AND THEN ONE DAY YOU'LL NOTICE
THAT EVERYWHERE YOU GO
YOUR MAIN BIT OF IMPORTANCE
IS A VISIT TO THE LOO
STILL YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THAT
SO THAT IS NOTHING NEW
YOU'LL NEED TO TAKE IT EASY
DON'T RUSH AROUND TOO MUCH
LET TERRY DO THE SHELVING
HE'S GOT THE MAGIC TOUCH
SO AMBLE AROUND YOUR GARDEN
AND PICK UP A WEED OR TWO
AND LOOK FORWARD TO RETIREMENT
AND STILL MORE VISITS TO THE LOO



AS WE STARED ACROSS A BOOK
RIDDEN INTELLECTUAL PARADISE
OUR EYES MET AMONGST
THE LEFT BRAIN THOUGHTS OF
LOGIC AND SINLESS CONFORMITY

THE RAGING FIRES OF OUR
HUMANITY DISCOVERED ONCE
AGAIN WITHIN THAT GLANCE
DESCRIBE THE UNIVERSAL PUSH
AND PULL OF THE POLES OF REALITY

PASSIONS AS A SYMBOL OF
THE UNIVERSAL CONNECTIONS AND SYNERGIES
BURNED INTENSELY.
THE FLAME IN OUR GAZE FUELLED BY
THE STIFLING ATMOSPHERE OF AUSTERITY.
BURNING IN THE ANTICIPATION OF OUR
MEETING
A FUTURE POINT IN TIME ASSURED
LOCATION UNAWARE
DESTINATION OF OUR PATHS TO MEET.



I MET YOU IN A BOOK
A BOOK OF HOPES AND DREAMS,
A BOOK OF LOVE AND PASSION,
A BOOK OF FRIENDSHIP AND LOYALTY
A BOOK OF TERROR AND MISERY,
A BOOK OF HUMOUR AND WARMTH,
A BOOK OF FACT AND FICTION,
A BOOK OF TRUTH AND LIES,
A BOOK YOU LIVED THROUGH,
A BOOK I LIVED THROUGH
IN THE HORROR AND THE BEAUTY
WE WERE FRIENDS
AND WHEN THE BOOK WAS FINISHED
I NEVER FORGOT YOU
YOU NEVER FORGOT ME.
THEN I PICKED UP A NEW BOOK.
I MET NEW FRIENDS I LOVED.
FRIENDS MADE IN A BOOK ARE THE BEST
KIND OF FRIENDS
YOU LIVE THROUGH EVERYTHING WITH THEM
THROUGH THE GOOD AND THE BAD.
A BOOK THAT WILL NEVER DIE
YOU CAN TRAVEL A MILLION MILES WITH A BOOK
YOU CAN'T PUT YOUR LIFE DOWN ON THE BEDSIDE TABLE
IF YOU HATE IT,
OR RE-READ IT IF YOU DON'T
I MET YOU IN A BOOK
I MET YOU IN A MIRACLE



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I met you in a book
You came out at night
Wearing all black and a cape
You fight the evil and protect the innocent
And you have a sidekick from the name of a bird
I wish I had never met you in a book

I met you in a book
You scared people
You tried to kill some children
You aren't a human
You moved without us knowing
You found a friend
You said you were the master
I'm glad I met you in a book



I met you in a book
You are all cute and spotty
You were going to be made into a fur coat
Until you escaped
I'm glad I met you in a book

I met you in a book
You were big and scary
With sharp teeth
You lived in a park
And liked to eat meat
I'm glad I never met you in a book

I met you in a book
You are yellow with spiky hair
Your mom has got weird blue hair
Your dad likes to drink beer
And your sister likes to play the saxophone
I'm glad I met you in a book.



I met you in a book
You have big claws and very sharp teeth
You have a scar across one eye
I wish I'd never met you in a book

I met you in a book
You are crazy and always wore a hat
You have a friend with a very annoying smile
You eat on a very long table
You have a mouse in a teapot
You welcome all
I'm glad I met you in a book

I met you in a book
You have long black hair
You live in Transylvania
You have two children and a tall butler
Your husband likes her to talk to him in French
I'm glad I met you in a book

I met you in a book
You were a puppet
Who told many lies
When you lied your nose grew
You dreamed of being a boy
I'm glad I met you in a book.



I met you in a book
Your sisters were nasty and ugly
You were pretty and alone
You had to do all of the work
Your sisters had done none
They received an invitation to a ball
You wanted to go so you got dressed
They ripped it off you and said "No!"
You were upset, a fairy godmother came, made
You a dress and a coach, glass slippers and
Everything else, and then you travelled to the ball
You danced with the prince and the
Clock chimed twelve so you ran away
And lost a glass slipper
The Prince went searching for you
And finally found you and
You both lived together and got married
I'm glad I met you in a book.



I met you in a book
Yo had to run form the man
Trying to kill you and your family
You had to steal food from the three men
Out of the chicken shed
You kept digging and digging
And finally got away
Then you had a big feast with everyone
I'm glad I met you in a book

I met you in a book
You were ugly and trampy
You killed blackbirds and made a pie
Blackbird pie
You stuck glue to the trees but it did not work
I'm glad I met you in a book.



I met you in a book all lovely and brown
With a silver crown.
And very nice indeed.
I saw you there standing out,
bright in the middle of the page.
Have you guessed yet!
Well I'll tell you what I am,
I am a monkey.

I met you in a book all lovely and white.
With a black nose,
And very nice indeed.
I saw you there all lovely and bright.
I will give you one more clue,
I have got a tail.
Have you now guessed yet,
I will tell you what I am,
I am apolar bear.

I met you in a book all lovely and I don't know what,
I can talk, walk and lots of other things,
I wear clothes, you have probably guessed what I am,
I am a human being.



I met you in a book my friend,
You were tall and short,
And fat and thin.
You changed with my moods,
And laughed with me.
My friend you were,
And always will be.
I talked to you,
You talked to me,
You helped me with my problems.
I was in another world with you,
No one to nag or brag at me,
No one to talk or rumour,
No one to hurt or make me cry,
And if they did you were
there for me,
Ever ready standing by.



I met you in a book today
The twits are not very far away.
Fantastic Mr Fox bounding around
What's this the farmers found

The secret seven fire works galore
Always helping out the law
Badger on the Barge, a good story
With a badger who sits upon your knee.



You defeated monster blood
Which is green or blue and always evil.
You once were a freakish giant,
And your name is Evan.



I met you in a book,
But was it you?
I had to look to see if it was you
My friend Ju Ju.
We had such fun in the chapters I read,
In the cold dark night in my warm cosy bed.
And now I see you in the town
Making children laugh and playing the clown.



I met you in a book
Said the sailor to the cook
You were making fish paella
And it all fell down the cellar
You thought it was delicious
But the after taste was viscious.



I met you in a book
Alanna of Trebond,
Awoman knight,
In a man's castle,
Who always won the fight!



I met you in a book you
Were tall and hairy
Whereas I am not hairy at all
And really I am quite small.



Scan across the page as upon these words you read
My touch against your finger with liberation lightly leads,
The voice you hear is familiar, sounding inside your head
As it stutters uttering these words for the first time ever said.

My rhyme may be innocent but no weakness will i show
for it's not old fashioned-or a crime to write this way
Poetry is about emotions, the feeling of ones heart,
The brain and hand translates the message that we poets oft impart.

I think you're getting to know me by doing some psychology
Of my simple words and thier meanings with deep philosophies.
I only hope to entertain you with words written by my pen
to bestow a little knowlege or even wisdom.

Soft voice i'm spoken but weaknesses never show
im shouting loudly at this moment although you'd never know.
My pen against the paper is like a whisper in the night
It can carry words great a distance both of miles and time.



Books breach the boundaries
Of people's lives
Opening the gateways
To journeys of the mind
To other thoughts,other stories,
Other worlds,other times.



I read Winnie the Pooh
While sitting on the loo.
I read the worst witch.,
While sitting in a ditch.
I read the mystery kids
While snuggled up in bed.
I read Hippo Spooky
While keeping out a looky-
For GHOSTS!!!!



From the first word I was hooked.
There were perilous escapes,
and daring rescues.
You were handsome,kind and witty,
You will be my idol for the rest of my life.
It's just a pity that I'll never be your wife.



I
d never seen you,
But I'd heard of the things you did and said.
And then one day I opened a book
You were there standing on your head
I was surprised and totally stunned.
'Hello' you said quite politely.
I nodded and quickly shut the book.
I wish in a way we could have talked,but instead I ran off spritely.



I met you in a book
Of storyline complete.
With elves and gnomes and other things
And run with hairy feet.
You jumped right out at me
And pinched me on the nose.
I yelled and screamed and jumped about
You had a few more goes.
I read quickly on
Hoping as hope dares
That I would meet a nicer thing
Like crocodiles or bears.



IF A SONNET YOU WOULD HEAR ABOUT A BOOK I READ
HEED THESE WORDS OF WARNING TO STAND YOU IN GOOD STEAD
FOR OPEN AND BROAD MINDED YOU WOULD HAVE TO BE
TO ENJOY SUCH WIT AND HARMLESS FUN AND NORTHERN VULGARITY
A STORY OF A MINING VILLAGE AND ITS MINERS WELFARE CLUB
MOST EVERY MEMBER OF THE PLACE HAD A NICKNAME OR A DUB
TWAS THE DAYS BEFORE THE PIT HEAD BATHS THE DIRT WAS TAKEN HOME
ZINC BATHS ON HEARTHS-CARBOLIC SOAP
THEY'D NEVER HEARD OF FOAM.
THE COURTSHIP AND THE WOO-ING-THE BOOZING AND THE STRIFES
THOUGH HARDSHIPS BOOMED- SOME OF THEM LED SUCH SIMPLISTIC LIVES
THIS BOOK I TOOK FROM THE LIBRARY SHELF SO INNOCENT AND WISE
I NEVER DREAMT I'D ENJOY IT SO-WHAT FUN OH! WHAT SURPRISE
THE AUTHOR I THINK MUST BE NORTHERN
FOR HIS KNOWLEDGE HIS VERVE AND HIS RUB.
HIS NAME IS TREVOR BOSTOCK- AND HIS BOOK - WELCOME TO THE CLUB



lady bird , lady bird on the wall.
ladybird , lady bird ever so small



Piebald Poetry.
Away with waffle
Dispense with Piffle.

Disregard discretion,
Alleviate obsession,
Single out selection,
Sensible abstraction.

And then a rhyme
will come out in time.



It wasn't people I met,in the first one I read
But machines of which it was said
Could fly to the moon and mars
and look for life on other stars.
Phone contact each other in a flash
But letter writing cost less cash.
A box we could look into each day
To watch what went on far away.
Man-like robots to do the work
Which humankind will always shirk.
Things to wash and dry our clothes
Automatic opening doors.

I was five years old, - a little lass
Now most of these things have come to pass.
I've reached the age of eighty four
And wonder- were we better off before?




I love stephanie Read she loves me so lets show eachother how much we really love eachother

6,810 lines

Stafford is the County Town
Small but growing bigger
With a long and glorious history
Which is full of life and vigour
Firstly there is the church of St. Chad's
Going back to Norman days
Still faithfully ministering the call
That we should mend our ways.
Then also there very proudly stands
The Ancient High House of high renown
Which for four hundred years and more
Has been the pride and joy of our town
Where our own King Charles the First
Once stayed so long ago
Could we have seen the pageantry
Surely a brilliant show.
Then to St. Mary's weathercock
Prince Rupert with a gun
Peppered it with holes
Which no doubt for him was fun.
Also part of history is St. Mary's church
Restored long long ago
By Gilbert Scott a famous name
We are pleased that it was so.
Once The Royal Brine Baths were
Right by the River Sow,
Such a fine sight they used to be
We wish they were there now.
The windmill is so gaunt and still
Minus its sails and out of use,
With restoration about to come
Its future dignity should profuse.
King Edward the Sixth Grammar School
Came to the town for boys
Later to join up with the girls
Which gave all such fun and joys.
The railway came in eighteen thirty seven
And so the town expanded
Ever grateful for more life
When something new has landed.
We still go on from strength to strength
So much more could be recorded
For Stafford Town is growing still
May it all be fully rewarded.




It is easy to smile when life is worthwhile
When you are happy, well and fit
You can run any mile, or jump any stile
And feel nothing the worse for it.
For then life is easy as you all know,
You are cheerful, merry and bright,
You think of the glorious things you can do
To put the whole world aright.

When others like you hold the very same view
And are willing to do their bit,
The task is simple and easy to do
Because all take a share in it.
Or if it goes wrong, well you're all to blame
You make no bones about it,
You just give a smile and all share the shame
The put about to right it.

But when you are alone and something goes wrong
And you have no friend to share it,
It is not so easy to sing a song
Or whistle and grin and bare it.
For when all around is dark with despair
And sin and disquiet ensnare you
You look for comfort but find none there
And fear and doubt tear you.

When illness calls or your business fails,
Or for your art you have lost the knack,
It is all up hills and never down dales
And you have a major set back,
You are forsaken and have no friend,
You are lonely worn and sad
Don't pray for the worst that hell can send
For things are never so bad.

It is then that the stout heart and the true,
That courage, faith, hope and will
Come up on top as is their wont to do,
For they are never standing still,
And so may it be that every dark cloud
Be it high or low or where,
A beautiful silver lining shroud
And may you always find it there.




I met you in a book, stories so many years ago
When I was young and fancy free
Libraries have always been my lifeline,
Love adventure and crime
Sometimes I'd read till late at night
Couldn't put the book down,
Had to find out if he was safe and
Manage to get out of town

I've read them all - themes and themes
They'd lift me up, transport my dreams
Catherine Cookson's poverty,
Her stories touch the heart

Cartland Lord and Ladies
Gambling duels and such,
Turn a few more pages,
You meet a handsome buck
Hitchcock mysteries - never fail
Then you find out at the end
Always a twist in the tail.

I've been reading for decades,
Met 'Master of Bankdam'
And Dickens's Little Nell
Sailed on ships with gusting winds
Moby Dick with his famous yell
'There she blows'

I've travelled worlds in space ships,
Far beyond the stars,
I've fought the spaceship pirates,
Carried cargo up to Mars
I've seen all sorts of creatures, some
You'd never believe,
Stories of science fiction were very hard to leave.
I've met library people who've helped me find,
Books that I've wanted, some were very kind,
If they only knew the travels I've gone
They'd be more than pleased
Their job well done




When I was a child I was given a book
I couldn't read then, but I took a look

I saw pictures of animals who made me smile
I looked in that book for quite a while

I met a rat and badger, toad and mole
Weasels and stoats, all playing a role

I loved them all in that beautiful book
And I swore that by hook or by crook

That I would soon learn to read,
And know about their every deed

As I lay against my pillows
My mother read me Wind in the Willows

Their adventurous lives were all so real
To young and old they did appeal

I loved them dearly so whenever I could
I thought about them by the river and in the Wild Wood.

Most of my friends think I'm batty
To still love Mole and his friend Ratty
Also Badger and the infamous Toad
Who is such a menace on the road

Ratty and Mole live on the riverbank
They rowed a boat and almost sank
'Cos weasels and stoats spoiled their day
but they didn't get all their own way
'Cos Ratty soon gave them a whacking
So he and Mole then sent them packing

Badger so wise, helpful and good
Has a cosy little house in the wood
Toad lived in splendour in the Great Hall
And welcomed anyone who will call

He is like a naughty little boy,
Always buying the latest 'toy'
A horse drawn caravan, then a car,
But he didn't get very far

When he was sent to prison for being naughty
Stoats and weasels became quite haughty
They went into Toad's beautiful home,
All over it they did roam
In jubilant and destructive mood,
They wrecked the house and ate his food

Now Badger and friends made a great plan
Down to Toad Hall, they all ran,
They found secret passages into the house
So in they crept, silent as a mouse
Soon they captured these weasels and stouts
And sent them away without any coats

So Toad again as King did reign
But then he got an aeroplane
So that I'm sorry was the end of the tale
And we all began to weep and wail
We were all so very sad
Every girl and boy and mum and dad
Those stories were so fine and good
So three cheers for William Horwood

He obviously loved them as much as I
For he refused to let my friends die

He became rather bold
He wrote about Willows in the cold
His stories are just wonderful to tell
He writes about them all so very well

Again I read with joy and wonder
Tales that make me even fonder
Of all my old friends in their winter days
Still living their adventurous ways

Then came toad triumphant
Still up to his little tricks and jokes
But still loved by his country folks
I was broken hearted at the stories end,
But very soon my heart did mend

Because along acme the willows and beyond
More adventures of friends of whom I'm more than fond