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How's life been treating you? Your hamster life can't be all bad, Why need a drink or two? Sam was hit by a truck, Fred died there too. Sal just disappeared one day, I think he was added to some stew. This poem is stupid, what's the point? I know this you think But the moral of this story is: Hamsterphobia Wes I think I want a hamster, 'cause hamsters are so grey.
I'd call my hamster Yougus, and songs Yougus would play. He'd sing about his food tray. He'd sing about his food. But sometime's he'd go gothic When he got in the mood. But I would just respect that. I'd dare not interfere. If I were to make fun then He'd bite off half my ear.
And then you know what he'd do? He'd get me with a knife. He'd eye me with his hamster eye and take away my life. Something just occurred to me. He doesn't yet exist. I don't have to be worried. I needn't yet get pissed. Corffin da theif What's the point of a poem place? Say the answer, right to my face! All it is is funny stuff that a bunch of people thought up. If you disagree, you're wrong! Cauze this is just a stupid place, where tons of people compete in the race. And then I ask "Oh, just one thing I mean,they dont really give good pay. I had a job for one once you know? It was a blustery day back in The same day that Columbus sailed the ocean blue.
Anyway,the hamsters said I owed them money. And I thought they were being funny. As a matter of fact the hamsters i did owe. I had them payed off in only 3 days. Then my head began to fill with hase. A hamster had just bit my foot. Right then i flung him off and he went splut. I quit my job and ran away. I bought me a girble. And decided to stay. The redish-brown hamster Matt "the man" A. The redish-brown hamster was sad; Beacause all the other hamsters had; Brownish-brown fur to deem themselves; He tried to buy it off the shelves: The poem of the stupid hamster king Matt "the man" A.
The hamster sits on his throne all day waving his septer all over the place unwittingly hitting other hamsters in the head they just cant do anything about it because he is the king. He was a real idiot he impared an avarage of forty hamsters per. But one day when the enemy was upon them he destroyed them all just looking for his contact lens so i guess he's okay. So don't touch the pickle Or your hands will get sticky. The pickle stinks of Yoda, Its small and green. But the pickle will eat you, Its a killing machine. So be nice to the pickle, And it won't eat you. Ballad of the Hero Newrad Once upon a time, long ago There was quite a rule of the hamster hero.
He took everything, he stole every place, Until Attila the Pickle spit in his face. This little pickle had promised him death. So Bob and Attila had such a rumble, Dust flew and guns shot in this gruesome tumble. Blood was shed, and sweat did run, Until each of our heros shot a gun. Both shots did fly, so loyal and true, The fight was over, there was nothing left to do.
Attila and Bob fough a great fight, But in the end, they each saw the light. So Bob tied Attila up, And threw him in the river. Then he detonated the C-4, And the world did shiver. Battle of Adam Love In we took a little trip, I had a little hamster tied to my hip. We took a little bacon and we took a little beans and we sailed our boats down to New Orleans. Well that little hamster was a good at fighten' Their Iceberg lettece he was a biten' Their squad ran out of food on the spot.
For them to surrender is what they saught. Thanks to the hamster we finally won the battle, As the hero we perched him on the sattle, He rode around the town, but he was so shy. Nothing came out of his mouth not even a sigh. Forever in our hamster balls a hero lives inside it. Stan wasn't a very tall man, poor Stan. He had a bad habit of rubbing flammable liquids on himslelf. Till one day finally appeared a small elf. The elf did say "Now listen here Stan It is known very well that you aren't a tall man The wise waste basket of Sir Jim the collector of oddly shaped rocks Says to come to the place where the rulers are clocks" To this Stan replied "What did you say?
But listen to me and shed not any tears The lesson you must learn is "Don't clean you ears! I locked him up in the gym! But if you want to know my name it is Stan! From the last poem? How can it be? And know that you know I will have to kill you with this ski! Stan was last seen With an oddly shaped bean Yelling at it constanly saying something like "I don't need that syrup just because it didn't vote for Ike!
Hamsters With Chitonous Plating Kenton chitonous plating is cool and my hamster has some and it makes his exoskeloten hard and pointy and whenever a cat attacks him he uses his mighty pointy exoskeleton and gives the cat whats coming and then he lies down and has a pina colada and watches some TV and goes to sleep with his teddy bear named zargonite this pointless poem was written by an unemployed rodent as a cry for attention see u later: Native Hamster King Seniore Nato Sitting atop his wood hamster king throne Silvery scepter in hand, all to call his own Hamster land, hamster grand is he.
Ruling over all, even you and me. Running in his wheel of gold, others doing what they are told Sitting, sipping, smiling, sacrificing. Fat with food pellets bored with prime. He looks with joy out his island cage, as he hears "Mickey, Feeding Time! I am the forest monkeys swing in my branches I don't like monkeys I am the forest fish swim in my creeks I don't like fish I am the forest birds live in my trees birds are okay I am the forest bugs crawl on my dirt I don't like bugs I am the forest bulldosers kill me Thorvaldsen Once, in a time forgotten there lived small furballs made of cotton.
These furballs walked around, without even the slightest sound. They walked in a world without time. They walked in a world without crime. They didn't always walk, but also hovered in the air. They never combed their hair. It was no reason for it, and they couldn't. And of course; they shouldn't. They were just furballs made of cotton, long ago, in a time forgotten. Thorvaldsen Why, oh why does a banana taste like a banana? Couldn't it taste like a bear or an Iguana? Why is the bird in the tree?
Why doesn't a bean taste like a pea? Why, oh why is it like this? Why doesn't a strawberry taste like a kiss? Why are not males females, and the other way around? Why is it the dogs that are bound? Why is there hope? Why can't I be the pope?! Why must I learn math? Why must one search for life's path? Why isn't fire cold? Why are not babies full-grown and old? Why isn't a pencil as sharp as a knife? What is the meaning of life? Why can't the moon shine alone? Why is gold heavier than stone? Why haven't I got all the answers?
I really don't know I composed this in 5 minutes while watching Teletubies Anonymous The sadness is truly eroding my soul, The loss of such a cherished life, Why must such a thing die? Why not Bobs wife? No offense Bob, You and your wife are meant to be, Both strange, with deminted minds, Sorry, but its not hard to see. Back to my sadness, Life is so unfair, how could I not know? It is just so obvious, Because of strange people, like Edgar Allen Poe. Sorry dude, But you got major depression issues, why?
I mean, you have, a look that went out a hundred years ago, And all you do is, uh, cry. My point is, My loving companion, how could it just die? My darling hamster, The love of my life? I grieve and grieve, And fall in despair, The poor thing died, Sad part is that I really dont care. Duck Maggy If it looks like a duck And it quacks like a duck And there's duck-doo on your pickup truck You can bet your bottom buck It ain't no armidillo. Her fur was golden in color, And her delicate eyes were pure green. One day, back when she was just little She found an Omicron troll.
All its kind were extinct in the mountain It was one of a kind, it was old. Now Rose had a big heart and she saw That it was injured and would soon die. And after she nursed it a little It told her of magic in the sky. It held up its hand and cast out a beam Which fell upon the hamsterette. The troll died away and the girl Had powers she would not regret.
She learned how to fight off all enemies From Lord Broaste to the tiniest plip. She was looking for someone brave To give a fat lip. One day it just so happened She met young Bob, our hero. She had heard he was hard to fight with And she ended up hit point zero. This was the first battle Rose had lost She was looking for someone who could win. She hadn't used magic in the fight Because she wanted things even. She asked him if he wanted her magic, Bob refused very polite.
But she shed that beam of light on him And now he knows Magicsmite. Then years later Broaste took her captive. She had given her magic to Bob. And when he eventually rescued her, She only replied with a sob, "Dearest hamster, you've become the hero, But I fear that I must go To wherever the people may need me And where I can be the hero. He still could not believe his ears At what she had to say. Bob's eyes had a pitiful look As he merely tried to comprehend, But by the time that he brushed the tears out of his eyes, She was gone to the Hamster Land's end.
To this day no one knows where exactly She may be found in sight. Bob claims to know, though, but how is that so? In his heart she is still in sight. Endless Staircase Heather Mizuno It was a stormy, frightful, perilous night. And it seems that none were about. None, that is, except the mage That all Flanat village was talking about.
A bitter girl, she had a past She simply could not reveal. She had scores to settle with her enemy And his fate must soon be sealed. She was known as a beautiful doom And was better than those twice her age. Not blue, black, white, or red, This was a rainbow mage. The enemy that this young girl sought Was the wizard on top of a stair. He would conquer the world as he'd conquered the girl Unless someone would cause his impair. It wasn't one stair, it was thousands, And this would cause the girl major strife. She faced the tall tower as quick as a flash.
She took the first step just right. Just getting to her foe was so much trouble But she was determined with every flight. The wizard laughed as he watched her, and After 90 or so floors of stairs The brave young mage slowly looked up And saw she wasn't getting anywhere. The wizard could create endless flights of stairs And could keep her out of sight.
But the brave young soul wouldn't die out. And so she kept on with all her might. Then she heard a noise just behind her. It was a squeak, and then a shout. She saw it was a blue hamster. Quite abnormal, without a doubt. The hamster said, "This is hopeless! If you don't stop, you will get killed! So I'd go back down if I were you And jump with all my skill!
He fell back and thumped his way down. The jumping had given the brave mage An idea that turned her around. She would fly to the top of this endless staircase And push her foe off to the side. Even though it could destroy the staircase And make her commit suicide. She took this risk and flew away To the top of her foe's land.
She began to push the midget wizard And proceed with the rest of her plan. The staircase vaporized with its creator. The mage abruptly fell. But before she could ever hit the ground She had a chance to yell. It happened that this tower Was close to Flanat town. James, her friend, heard the call And saved her from tumbling down.
He cast a sort of bubble spell That helped to cushion her fall. She thanked him and went on her way again, When James realized he hadn't been rewarded at all. It costs MP to use bubbles, you know! This thought was wild in James' head. But he knew that if he were to insult her, He might as well be dead. He told Bob of what happened That cold and gloomy night. Bob only raised an eyebrow and said, "You're spiffy and just all right! And if you see her, Would you get me her autograph?
Things happen Todd Vincent Things happen unexpectedly I never saw that coming Things turn completly around I can already hear the stories I can already hear the excuses I sit drinking One night or another One day or one night Home or away I can't explain the fire You seem to have been the perfect couple In front of the scary couples Someone said "what kind of friend is she" Now I really begin to wonder.
Greeting from the brush Danfish 77 From the way he came from the bushes and extended his hand, I could tell he had come from a strange, foreign land. His clothes were quite "frumpy," his hair just as lumpy, and he greeted me from nary ten paces away: Wheat Anonymous Wheat sitting out in the field, Along comes those Treshers who do not yeild.
They come and go as they please, As those helpless wheat die with its fleas. The industry hides their fate, As those who know about this fill with hate. As the wheat are hit with death, They scream "Bread is Murder! If I Were A Hamster The Supreme Edible I never see the green Coz green is not a pig I'd love to be a hamster But my ears'd be too big Well, if I were a hamster I wouldn't want to be Coz all the facial tissues Don't really think of me In fact I hate the hamsters What's good with this webpage The articles which make me Laugh a tenth year off my age But that would make me two And that's not good at all While back about a year I could barely think to crawl But I can think, all right I think I thought today But that aint relevant To what I'm saying, anyway Of course, what was I saying I didn't really think Well, if I were a hamster I'd only be half pink.
Step by step mr. Using a small furry head And a paw, It's a bliss! Cats in me Mr. I'm really one of a kind you see, Got milk? She has this kind of beauty, That entices me, So I pray so hopefully, That she'll always be The way she used to be The she was so kindly When she once played with me She's lovely Lovely as an innocent baby But now she has grown to be to be a beautiful lady All I can do is be, be as hopeful as I could be But why do I fear unknowingly fearing the thing that she might be She is already a thing of beauty And a collector's prize, as I see For me she is not ready, not ready to face the dangers I see Her travels could be deadly Just hope that she'll live happily.
But I'm only acting childishly, Now I'm feeling so foolishly This just shows the selfish me Also, I am full of jealousy But this is just a poem you, see Quite a very long poem, as you can see But believe me, this is just my fantasy Don't believe me if this sounds funny But everything has an end, don't worry Even though you don't believe me, I have to end this happily.
Much Ado About Hampsters Mr. Kspork There once was a man from Nantucket Yeah I thought so You mean that doesn't help? Well why can't a hampster live in Nantucket? They do to exist! Well it might exisit, I think it is in Tennese Well of course I know that probably isn't how you spell it, I don't use spell-check you know that. Anyway back to my poem. There once was a hampster from Nantucket, who lived his whole life in a bucket Well why can't a hampster live in a bucket? It's a well furnished bucket I didn't put him in a wheel since the bucket is on his side he can just run up the walls.
Well I don't care this is my hampster and he lives in a bucket! There once was a hampster from Nantucket, who lived his whole life in a bucket, one day it rained and he slipped down a drain, and the poor little fellow drowned. What do you mean that's not a poem?!
All poems don't ryme, look at an Epic, did Beowulf ryme? What about Haiku do they ryme? I know it wasn't in Haiku format that wasn't the point. The point was a poem doesn't have to ryme Oh, he drowned wasn't you listening? I don't know why he didn't turn the bucket upside down to protect himself from the rain! I know it's my poem it's just that He used his hamster wheel And his oldest food pellet meal to build his hamstery tank.
Please see the list of all participants in the left sidebar. I'm just really bored, with too much time to think. Blood in her head belly in her mouth people in the sky and grass making straight green clouds. If you don't I guess that that's good, but if you want I guess I could tell you that word that he uses he says "yeah", and blows the fuses. Anony mouse Why is the continuing stopped?
Next he blew out wall And made a triunphant call -as he rolled out on the street. He showed up at the bank In his tiny tank He tied up the guard, which without any thumbs,is quite hard He blew up the vault, took all the cash, and said it was all my fault.
Without thinking, I unknowingly returned the gesture, Even though I didn't know if I felt it. By lunchtime, you were saying it again And this time I honestly said it back.
As a matter of fact, we said it a lot, Almost after every bite. Then at dinner, I said, "I love you," first. This time, you mumbled when you said it. Maybe you still had chicken in your mouth, But I hardly heard it clearly. I wonder what dessert will be. Maybe you'll skip saying anything, And be more concerned with your cake. He looks like a duck. Sometimes he gives me luck.
My ferrets name is Buck. My ferret likes to swim. Sometimes he seems dim. I have a worm named Lum. Lum acts like a bum. He also likes to hum. Buck had stepped on Lum. He mistook him for a crumb. I had a horse; his name was Zam. He liked his SPAM with his jam. Zam unfortunately stepped on Buck. It appears that Buck had no luck. He was only a ferret that looked like a duck.
I had a frog that had a name. That frog with a name was hit by a plane. Then my frog went insane. I wrote a poem that had no point A word that rhymes with point is yoint Some other words are zink and zoint I wrote a poem that had no point. Don't forget to clean hammy out Strawberry Girl There once was hamster Who lived in a cage On top of a shelf In the basement He had some sawdust And some bedding Some food And a bottle of water You know how it goes Leave it a week and it starts to smell But they did not just leave it For a week, you know.
Misconceptions Oliver Lopez Does anyone really know who we really are? Or do they just claim falsely that they do? Yet when they do so, they speak as if They know our very souls. So open, so clear, yet untrue. Do they really see what's inside? Or maybe they pretend, when in truth They only see the wrappings, the beauty, the goodness, the nicety Of what we choose to show.
Yet still, it is as if they know, And in some ways they do, Who we really are And when they claim, they speak And maybe know our very souls So open, so clear, yet untrue. Oliver Lopez Upon my shoulder rest, my life, my love, my soul Give unto me your trust, and close your eyes to sleep Let me guard as you're away on the paradise Upon which island you find that of what you wish Oh, my love, do thou know how much I fear for thee How I wish the best would come to you who deserve All what I cannot give, so I give up my life Upon thy command, I shall bleed happy to die My deepest concern, is that of you are with me I fear I am a bastard, not rightful for you But as long as you're here, I'll fight my very self To be who you want me to be, even someone Oliver Lopez When we first met, remember how far we were?
We were strangers then, of each other we know not. But you talked to me, and shared, and in your words told me That for you, I was special, and because of that you were special too! It got better, and I knew I was the happiest person alive We felt the same way, yet slowly, something tore us apart I though it imposiible, but we were drifting back To being strangers once more, of each other we know not And now, on Earth, we live as strangers again Yet with one thing different and it is this, When our eyes meet, we feel, deep in our hearts That somewhere in Heaven we have met It was a dream so distant, and we both hope it was real.
She looked bewildered, She looked afraid, Her fur looked like the golden rays. She always bites, No matter how threatened.
A Fish, a Frog, and a Gnome: My Favorite Poems [Jennise Conley www.farmersmarketmusic.com] on www.farmersmarketmusic.com *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. Did you know that even a. A Fish, a Frog, and a Gnome has 6 ratings and 4 reviews. Dani said: It's nice to find books that the parents can enjoy along with the children. Some book.
But she always felt very frightened. I had to do it, What choice did I have? She bit me when I was always too near. I ignored her, That's what I did. She didn't seem very keen, on making friends with a teen. The only time I spent with her, Was only when I seldom fed her. She was so tiny when given, Then she was big after being taken. She passed away while I was at school, I didn't had the chance to say goodbye. The beautiful hamster, Being neglected, Being ignored, But felt so frightened, Died out of the lack of human touch.
That's what my aunt said. I do regret for not spending a lot of time with her, Even though she bites the hands, I do regret for not taking good care of her, But I had some reasons. She bit me, She retreats at some offers of food, And I always had to pat her When she was not noticing me, When she was eating.
I do regret what I did sometimes, But sometimes I think that it was somewhat her fault There had been too little time to take lessons and learn to swim so righteous Noah had agreed to take them in. The wind it howled, the rain it fell, til the earth was covered thick. The Ark it reeled and rocked and rolled; and both hamsters felt seasick. Now, when a hamster's feeling ill, when he has a cold or flu, one thing that will help him rest is to find some wood to chew.
Even better - joy complete!
Had they dwelt on the upper deck, no-one would have tried to stop them but in the Ark's arrangement, Noah had put them on the bottom. They scratched their way through gopher wood using their tiny claws: Then used their sharp incisor teeth to open the hole still more. Down and down the hamsters dug til they could no more be seen. When Noah came that evening late he let out a deafening scream: Deep below on the outer planks, the hamsters were now at work.
Unless somehow he could stop their game soon water would fill the Ark, And flood the ship, sink the boat - all hands would be drowned! Noah thought how foolish he'd been to put them on the ground. Then a plan came to his mind and he rushed upstairs to trace the whereabouts of that strange, grey beast that had a tail fixed to its face. Soon, Noah had this animal standing in front of the hole. Being careful not to stand on the mice and keeping well clear of the mole, He tossed a peanut into the void, heard it clatter deep - The animal, feeling hungry now, dropped its trunk to find the treat.
Meanwhile, Paul Mark sniffed the shell of the morsel that lay at his paws, sinking his teeth with a crunch and crack; And grasping it firm with his claws. This one ugly hamster, wandered from its home, So many different places, "Where should I roam? There is no message in this poem except one ugly hamster can become a cow's baby. The oreo cookie and the hamster Anonymous Little known is the fact That cookies are the perfect snack For your favorite buck tooth buddy. This itself may seem strange Just a little out of range And just ask any ham and he'll tell you No kiddin man.
The lucky rodents enjoyed their treat But now unffortuanly there're all in heaven. It happened quite by accident Just as we found our feet We had a big red spinning wheel To run in for a treat. I was biggest, most adventurous And not afraid of trying So I climbed in, then mum climbed in It spun - and I went flying. My sisters and my brothers Had to have a turn, of course A marvellous discovery Was centrifugal force! Naivete Amy Self I had a hamster I loved him so that is why I let him go They say if you love something set it free I prayed that he'd return to me He was gone for quite a while How missed my wayward child!
I pictured him happy out on his own that was when I found his bones Little and skinny was he, But like this he would not stay. He soon began to eat. He did get rather round. He could'nt walk around without making giant holes. This foolish little rodent Just kept chewing away, Until one day, He blew up. Kentucky fried hampster Anony mouse It has come to me, that this restaurant, serves chicken not, but the meat of our furry friends.
Mchampster Anony mouse You are wondering why i attack the fast food that makes us "ack! Excuse Never Told Starlight88 All the colors in the world white and black and brown smiles,smiles, everywhere never see a frown always happy and content she loves life they say never darkness in her world sunshine every day perkey, peppy, pleased with life if they only knew what was buried in my heart they would all feel rue it makes no difference to them what the inside hold it is none of their concern excuse never told. Look 2 nature Starlight88 Summer, winter, then comes spring seasons always change take it one day at a time time 2 rearrange leaves are danceing, sky is 2 swirrling all around always changeing mood and voice waiting 2 be found look 2 nature 4 the cure 2 a broken heart then 2 heal you must realize 2 end is 2 start.
Starlight88 Music is an art form, that is of no compare. A pretty little tune you play, that is Wo, leben sie, eher Aber, wie man sie Amperestunde, ist die Antwort einfach. Dort finden Sie dieses Halteseil mit einen mafia Und alles das ist, zu dem, dort ist. Bewachung als der furry Freudenswarm! Hey, wohin gehen Sie? Mein Rat ist legit. Sie fragen, warum ich nicht einen Hamster jetzt habe?
Hamsterway David das Schaf There's a hamster who's sure that his wheels goin' somewhere But he's ridin' a wheel to nowhere. Tomorow's Dreams The Arc Rose goodbye dream, it's time to go sad to leave you behind with no one you know whatever happens, never flee when i come back you'll stay with me go forward nomatter what you feel and the time will come when you are real as for now i must be gone, sad for this world leaves me mad crazy it is, no changing it yet it will when you come, i bet nomatter what nomatter little pink dreams.
Before The Arc Rose-arcrose mail. HAMI David das Schaf Oh Hami Hami Hup I bought 3 little Hamsters as hairless as could be hoping to make a good dinner for people like you and me but when I was about to cook them one really did his best to show all his hamster colors and he stood above the rest He doesn't bite he doesn't squeal he runs all day on his hamster wheel he would make a mighty fine meal but I FEEL he's better locked up in his cage he didn't lay his droppings on the president although he is an inbissal and hamster should have dropped missile this little one makes the world better for people like me and you he is a really great hamster, don't you think so too?
He has a beak for eating H. Llama aims and shoots a RAY time for acceptance came and P. Ode to the great Stetzie Hoodini A hamster Anonymous Stetzie Hoodini A creme colored hamster Sits in her cage Always watching suroundings Black eyes, black ears A little plump But hamsters often are Always courious, always alert But never bitten anyone She's an kind hamster But if the cage is left open Stetzie will not be there. They would sail their ships, through the roaring blue sea, And anchor on the town's white shores. Then they'd enter the town, steal cloth and food, As if they enjoyed starting wars.
So one day the town sent a message over sea, Expressing the way they were. The Vikings just laughed, as they always did, For they were horrible people for sure. But the Vikings were wrong, the town wanted peace, While only getting despair, Yet they still recieved a message declaring war, So all they could do was prepare. So the king gathered his knights, as they headed for shore, And they camped there for the wait. Yet, waiting got old, being they could do, And all it did was enlarge their hate. The Vikings arrived, with great numbers of men, All armed with swords and shields.
As the knights stared in awe, watching the ships make way, Struggling through the watery fields. Yet a storm started up, raining like nails all around With lightning snapping like whips, It was to the town's luck, the unexpected, The storm took out one of the ships. The vikings dismounted, one by one, Charging for the knights, One by one now, the bodies dropped, Wobbling more flimsy than kites. The battle went on, for hours that day, Until it finally reached dawn. Fresh blood being shed, every minute or two, Until every life was gone. Yet a man still walked shores alone, Praying to God every second for life, But he knew soon enough, his life would end, So he asked God to take care of his wife.
He sat on the beach and moaned with pain, Thankful, for every breath. But blood poured from his gaping wound, Causing him only thoughts of his death. Soon enough his grip prevailed, And he let his spirit fly. There he stood at the gates of heaven, Forgetting all his pain with a sigh.
The blood, thickened with a fowl smell, Bad enough to make you ill, But there was peace, and silence, all around th beach, As much as on a lonely hill. It was a sad day, no one ruturned home, Yet something good was accomplished my friend, The fact is, after all the suffering, The conflict had come to an end. The ugly hamsterling, or whatever Anony mouse I don't only do fast food poems, you know. He lived with his family of 2 parents, and 8 brothers and sisters, who were not ugly. Anony mouse Why is the continuing stopped?
The jumbo shrimp is there. We're surrounded by military inteligence. And the oxy morons make sense. Why is my logic impeccable? The Hamster of life. Reed Smith Reed the Hamster The full of life thy hamster was who loved life because, he loved the seeds he loved the feeds and even loved thy beeds.
But he was sad of one more thing he really wanted to sing and so he advent -ured around the world looking for a certain girl that help with his dream and he found that girl so it seamed. A happy ending cant you se and that is what its supposed to be. Hamsters are fuzzy and cram when they eat! Hamsters are cute When they run on their wheel! Their Big Shiny Eyes have tons of appeal! Hamsters are snoogly when they run on a shelf, Hamsters are snugly when they clean themselves! Hamsters like security And hardly ever fall But hamsters are hyper when they run in their ball!
Hamsters are quite sober, but can be quite frisky Especialy when loaded on cheap Irish Whiskey. Hampsters are tasty when you want a treat! When wind blows further down the dusty-wet path All have left, no more room Fresh air stinking, my wrath. The fearless flights of cowards push me down Mud in my clean hair, Peace comes with a frown. There once was a small house And this house was owned by A strange, and mysterious guy Who is known as the H-Master The H-Master was so wise We said he can make the best French Fries And build an entire airplane While curing somebody who was insane All during his lunch break He was just that good He could even create new fuel Cross-breed the perfect mule Write a masterpiece Bring galactic peace Bake and serve an apple pie Fly a rocket through the sky Cure all diseases Answer all the pleases All when he was sleeping He was just that good, we said Then one day we discovered the H-Master was a phony He was a plain old Hamster That could only Cook up some pepperoni While building a car And train the best rock star We were all full of shame For we had just misspelled his name.
Hamsterling Adam Avramov There was once a young hamsterling That liked to shoot with a sling. A Cat came to eat the hamsterling But was shot by his M sling You may wonder - who's the hamster, who is the cat, The hamster is David, the cat - Goliath. Jackie Hosking is an economical writer — she loves short and sweet with a twist at the end so poetry suits her very well.
She has been writing poetry for children since and she plans never to stop. You can visit Jackie at two places — www. What do you notice about Haiga that is different from haiku? We have the same idea of few words and short lines, but now there is an image too. Write a modern haiku to go with the image. Try not to just write what is in the image. Add something extra in your words. If you are not sure about what a haiga is, Google it for more examples! Here are some ideas about haiku to use for a haiga. While many students are taught the traditional syllables, modern haiku has a lot more flexibility — which makes it more fun!
WE all wrote one haiku every day for the month. These come from my haiku diary. The gecko haiku is true — my son was taking a close-up look at a gecko and it nipped him on the lip! Focus on creating a small word picture in three lines — the smaller, the better. And aim for your third line to be a small surprise of some kind. I often felt like this when I was a kid — out of place, out of sorts. Her other verse novels are Motormouth and Runaways. She would love it if more kids read poetry and wrote it too!
Her websites are about her books and writing and about poetry for kids. Place says a lot about who you are or how you feel. Think about a place that means a lot to you — how do you feel when you are there? Can you write a poem that shows us the special place and how you feel, without using the word feel?
Use descriptive mood words to help create atmosphere. Our creek was full of leeches That latched on to my toes And slimy eels and tadpole tails That ended up my nose …. He tickled me relentlessly Put toast crumbs in my bed Gave all my dolls bad haircuts — Then hanged them in the shed. Meredith has been writing doggerel — and catterel! Her poems have appeared in various publications but she is best known for her book of action verse for the very young, Doodledum Dancing Penguin, This poem is from When We Were Young Penguin.
Visit her at www. Write down three things you know about them, and six descriptive words for them. Try to work all of these things into a poem — maybe you could write one verse about each thing, or tell a story in your poem about something that person did. Passing by, I can almost believe that the flesh and blood owner is a puppeteer hiding behind ridges of wood, pulling silk wires to make his old self do a predatory dance. It reminded me of outgrown clothes as children grow and that prompted me to think about spiders and their outgrown suits.
Poetry allows her freedom to gather images and to build them into a different slant on the world. Lately her love of poetry has gown into a verse novel, out now: Ratwhiskers and me Walker Books. Is there something small but strange or different in your house? A tiny treasured object? I am put together with no choice in how I look. I must resemble a nightmare in clothes worn-in and worn-out. Wind tugs at them Like sails on the ocean.
Rain wets them, chills my insides. What do you see when you look at my face? When the wind screeches at fields, shaves soil to dust and tears hair from my head — can you see that on my face? When green tips nudge tiny clods of earth and push upwards to the sun — can you see that on my face? Does my expression change — or not? Each day I wake to the same view, but long to see a sunrise. Each day I feel there are steps that would excite would lead to places my head cannot yet know. One night, when the moon is bright and a star swings low, I will pluck that star and cut the rod that holds me and I will leave the field and make my own path in the moonlight.
In the middle of a paddock was a scarecrow. Part of him had been created with hay bales and he was beginning to look a bit shabby. And I wondered if one day he might be able to have a freedom of sorts. I also think some people are content being scarecrows, doing the same things every day in the same way. Imagine yourself as an object — something with a face, such as a doll or a puppet or a garden gnome.
What kind of personality would you have? What would your days be like? How would you see the world around you? How would you feel? Write a poem that shows the reader all of these things and whatever else you can imagine. I feel those tickling legs up my shirt in my hair down my back all day. This poem came from a real experience when I was a kid. I was scared of spiders I still am! She had no trouble picking one up at all. Sherryl Clark has been writing poetry for over thirty years.
What is something you are really scared of? Write a poem that describes your feelings at being confronted by your fear — try not to use the word feel. They do exercises together in the slow lane, laughing till their walnut faces are as wrinkled as their rubber bathing caps. They take ten minutes to submerge and when they do the tide comes in! We duck-dive down and watch them. Flower skirts twenty years old float around the old hippo hips. They laugh and pedal and bob. They dance on the tips of their hippo toes, and breast stroke neatly to the music. Slowly they bounce from side to side, doing dainty underwater kicks.
Then in the changing room we take sly glances. Wrinkled saggy baggy old white hippos wobble like jelly when they laugh. Just little drifts of powder on the tiles, and a waft of lavender. The idea for the hippos poem came from the Richmond Baths where I go for a swim a couple of times a week. Us writers have to get exercise or we turn into computer-zombie-fatbottomblobs. The hippos poem is all true. They seem old fashioned.
I bet their grandchildren love them. Elizabeth Honey is an award-winning author of poetry, picture books and junior novels. Her playful humour, originality and irrepressible energy strike a chord with kids everywhere and her stories about the Stella Street mob have been translated into many languages. Write your own poem comparing a person or a group of people to a particular type of animal. Think about the way they move or the sounds they make as well as the way they look. I love the wintry weather When we rug up warm together Watching lightning flicker-flashing round the sky.
I go squelching, stomping, splashing Kicking stones and spatterdashing Making wintry weather patterns with my feet. I wanted to fill this poem up with lots of images and sounds that reminded me of the things I enjoy about cold days. And I was very excited to discover a wonderful new word — spatterdashing! Her poems have appeared in various publications but she is best known for her book of action verse for the very young, Doodledum Dancing Penguin, from which this poem is taken.
Her other books include several titles in the Aussie Nibbles series, and the very famous Ella Diaries series. I think inanimate objects and letters of the alphabet have secret lives. I like to put them under the spotlight, to remind the reader of their existence and to lead the reader into thinking further about them. I get my poems by observing small objects and creatures, human beings and world events and thinking about them. Melbourne poet Peter Bakowski has been writing poems for 25 years.
These poems are from The Heart at 3a. You will find an exercise on small word picture poems here. My brother had a puffer fish, He kept it on his desk. A slimy little puffer fish, Balloon-like and grotesque. And if you took it by surprise Or loudly slammed the door, It puffed till it was twice the size That it had been before. One day, we found the puffer fish Was absent from its bowl. Our cat looked rather devilish, For she had downed it whole. I apologise to cat-lovers for this poem. Would you like an exercise about rhyming poetry?
Over and over the bar she swung, the wonderful whizzing in her stomach and her hair falling soft and slack about her face. Over and over she swung until the material of her shorts caught and the skin on her legs squeaked hard and tight. Over and over she swung because upside-down was fun — everything was a wonderland.
Blood in her head belly in her mouth people in the sky and grass making straight green clouds. The idea for this poem came from a strong memory of the joy I had playing on the playground equipment at primary school. We had monkeybars and a jungle gym with a ladder, swing circles, a long bar and a swing bar. I particularly remembered the fun of linking both ankles and twirling around the big bar. It was a delicious feeling, both the turning and the everyday sights that became extraordinary. Janeen enjoys writing poetry; both rhyming poems and free-writing poems where there is more of a subtle rhythm.
She enjoys the magic and the music of words and delights in the sharp, concise clarity of getting the exact right word. Also she loves that the idea that poetry can be a hotline to your feelings or emotions.
Left behind on the beach: Walking the beach on a not so summery day, I looked and looked as a beachcomber. I saw the usual bits and pieces left as evidence of a fun day at the beach. I just had to jot it down. I always carry my notebook with me and jot down lines, especially in a new location. She has two collections of poetry for children published by Five Islands Press and her poems appear in School Magazine New South Wales and in anthologies. Riding along, with Molly and Jack Down to the creek on the bicycle track Birds in the air Wind in my hair Creek full of ripples and ducks that go quack!
Off to the creek with a snack in my pack Wheels whizzing round with a clickity-clack Kites in the breeze Magpies in trees Dogs running free and the sun on my back. Riding back home on the bicycle track Hungry for dinner with Molly and Jack Bike in the shed Jump into bed To dream of tomorrow when we can go back!
Birds in the air Wind in my hair Kites in the breeze Magpies in trees Bike in the shed Jump into bed To dream of tomorrow when we can go back! When I was young, I rode my bike to school along the banks of a river. The steady rhythm of the wheels going round helped to bring words and images into my head, and I wrote my first poems this way. For this poem, I wanted to try to reproduce that mesmerising rhythm. These days, I ride along the banks of the Merri Creek in inner-city Melbourne with the dogs from the poem — Molly and Jack.
And the turning wheels definitely helped to bring the lines and images I needed. You should try it some time! Her poems have appeared in various publications but she is best known for her book of action verse for the very young, Doodledum Dancing Penguin, , where this poem is from. Write your own poem: What is something you know about that has a rhythm of its own? The train going past? Your mum tapping her fingernails on the table? A friend bouncing a ball? Write a poem about the action, but try to write it in a way that gives us the rhythm as well.
Cockatoos landing, dip yellow crowns and beak speak. Cockatoos leaving, dip white breast coats and beat feet. A whole river reflection from tree so many centuries high, as cockatoos bustle the same unbroken hustle. We were in a caravan park with lots of very old gum trees, and a little stream nearby. What a glorious noise they made as they flew out, then flew in again. A cockatoo is such an iconic Australian bird, I just had to write it a poem!
I sat near those trees and wrote the first draft. Screech tree identifies the most striking feature of the Cockatoo- its noise. Lorraine loves writing poetry. Her website is www. What do you hear every day? Have you ever stopped to listen to each and every sound? Try closing your eyes and identifying each sound, which one is close, which one is far away. Do you know what every sound is? Which one resonates with you the most? Write a poem about it. May moisture fall softly on the tender scorched earth May a green haze spread amongst the blackened stumps May bunches of leaves sprout on charred trunks May small creatures find sheltering hollows left by fire May birds find food and fill the air with song May autumn rains gain strength to fill rivers and moisten wetlands for frogs and waterbirds May the earth feel renewed and restored May human hearts lose their fear and communities unite and grow strong And broken hearts find joy where least expected.
We live in Toolangi which is about 15 minutes drive from Kinglake, a little township devastated by the bushfires of February 7. The wind changed late in the afternoon as the fires were sweeping toward our township, swinging north, and we were saved. But every time I drive back to Toolangi, I drive through acres of scorched forest. She writes for adults and children, but her books are for kids. This kind of poem is known as a litany, where you repeat the same words at the beginning of each line. In earlier times, it was also called a prayer.