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‘I’ll write a poem’ the poet said,

     'And I want my poem to rhyme.

I want to write a special poem,

    And I’ll give myself the time.’

 

She opened up her pantry door

    And what was stored inside?

Oooh - lots of good ingredients

    Which she had stored with pride:

 

The poet looked along the shelf

     And grabbed the jar of rhyme.

‘The children all love rhyming poems,

      Especially at bedtime.’

 

‘Their Mum or Dad will read to them,

     And a poem that rhyme's a treat,

But without this special ingredient,

    Their poems are far from sweet.’

 

Then rhythm came into her view.

     ‘Ah yes,’ the poet thought:

So she grabbed the jar containing this,

    Which, thankfully, she’d bought.

 

‘Some similes, some metaphors

     And fun to make them grin,’

And as she wrote, she gently stirred,

     And all these things went in.

 

She read the words upon her page,

     And thought of what she’d done,

And the children told her, with a laugh:

     'Your poems are lots of fun.’  

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Copyright on all my poems