In the sweet, damp forest,

in the warm dark night,

a girl and her dog,

quite an innocent sight,

you wouldn’t know to see them,

you wouldn’t even guess,

she seems quite normal,

in a lily white dress,

but she holds dark magic,

in the depths of her heart,

the witch and her familiar,

never seen apart.

Keep away, keep away from the woods tonight

The dogs will howl, and the moon shine bright,

keep away, keep away, and guard your soul,

From the lily white girl who’ll never grow old.

The folks have seen them,

for many years,

the lively dog,

with two black ears,

by day they’re gone,

lured by the pull,

of dingy caves,

All damp and dull,

but when the sun,

Falls from the sky,

she weaves her spells,

and casts them high.

Keep away, keep away from the woods tonight

The dogs will howl, and the moon shine bright,

keep away, keep away, and guard your soul,

From the lily white girl who’ll never grow old.

My mum used to sing lullabies at night, and tell me all sorts of things at bedtime to make me feel better. It’s with this in mind I wrote this little rhyme.

There is nothing in the dark except for more dark,

There is nothing to be scared of, or afraid,

There is no one hiding anywhere around you,

In your bed that I have so carefully made.

In your head there are soft dreams that have no edges,

You can sink into them, colourful and light,

You could fly, swim or ride upon a horse there,

The day is nowhere near as much fun as the night.

Long, long, long ago in a pond there was a swan,

He was smooth, sleek and elegant, his neck was very long,

And all the other birds thought that he looked really fine,

But they never went to talk to him, as all he did was whine.

He complained about the water, he complained about the rain,

He found fault with all the pond weed; said it all tasted the same,

He complained about the ducks because he said they quacked too much,

He criticised the geese for eating grass and reeds and such.

He didn’t like the sunshine when his feathers got too warm,

The fog made him quite grumpy and he hated lightening storms,

And because he wasn’t very nice, no friendships had he grown,

The other birds ignored him and just left him on his own.

The swan pretended not to care, but deep down was upset,

So he didn’t tell them when he found the egg, small, white and wet,

It was nestled on the bank all by itself, just like the swan,

If he’d sought a captive audience he’d found the very one.

He made a comfy nest and took the egg to its new home,

He gently sat upon it and no longer was alone,

He told it all his problems both the big ones and the small,

He explained about the pond weed and the chatter and rainfall,

And when he’d reached the end of all the things that his life lacked,

He bobbed his head and quickly stood, to hear the egg had cracked.

A proud and nervous father now, he watched a beak pop through,

The head of his new progeny was tiny, wet and blue.

He helped it hatch completely and then dried it with his wings,

It really was a funny, quite pathetic little thing,

Now, the swan had such a feeling that he hadn’t had before,

It seemed he really liked this bird, and was soon to like him more.

Over days the tiny, bug-eyed chick became a yellow duck,

And this happy little creature could not believe his luck,

Everything he learned was a brand new good surprise,

And he told his new dad everything he saw with his new eyes.

He loved to swim in water, he learned within a day,

He swam out of the shallows, threw his water wings away,

He loved to eat pond weed, and couldn’t get enough,

And he also ate the grass, the reeds and other goosey stuff.

He thought the ducks were brilliant, and loved to hear them talk,

About whether dogs have accents, or if penguins really walk?

He loved the sunshine on his back, it made his tail twitch,

So far he thought with this new life, there really was no hitch.

The first time he saw lightning, the swan spread his wings wide,

The little duck was scared, but thrilled to hide all snug inside,

And gradually the swan decided life was not so bad,

And times he’d thought were awful were the best he ever had.

He took his son to see the others in the pond,

And one by one apologised and said that he’d been wrong,

They loved his little duckling, who was growing his brown feathers,

He told them of his swimming, and adventures with the weather.

And just like that the grumpy swan was having a great time,

The ducks thought he was funny, now that he didn’t whine,

If he’d known that it was easy he’d have done it all along,

And now he was a happy, friendly, really lovely swan.

Its been a little while, so I thought I’d pop in a poem about a gangster hamster, I’ve never quite trusted them.

Hannibal Hamster

Hannibal hamster was fluffy and round,

He was cuddly, but make no mistake,

He was really a gangster, the worst one around,

And he lived in a hutch by the lake.

The animals all were afraid of this guy,

His expression a permanent sneer,

Although tiny, they really could not explain why,

He would strike them with infinite fear.

His threatening swagger was slow and cock sure,

He knew he did not have to try,

He had studied kung fu with the masters, offshore,

And he knew how to speak and box Thai.

He sharpened his claws to hunt in the night,

His nocturnal mind sharp and lean,

He travelled by plastic ball, lit by moonlight,

He was stealthy and rarely was seen.

He was a lone wolf as he pedalled his wheel,

He kept himself firm, trim and buff,

He had cats for minders and trained them to heel,

With the hamster girls he was hot stuff.

Hannibal hamster was fluffy and round,

He was cuddly, but make no mistake,

He was really a gangster, the best one around,

And he lived in a hutch by the lake.

Henrietta the cow, thought she knew how,

To moo like the greatest of bovine

but one day she found,

that instead of that sound

she only could manage a low whine

To her great distress, (what a mess, what a mess!),

she actually started to bark.

It was quite a surprise

the voice that gave rise

was the wrong animal in the Ark

she asked the two bears, the ducks and the hares,

‘Oh where is my wonderful mooOO?’

She wanted the proof

By hook or by hoof,

She knew someone took it, but who?

But the horses said ‘neigh!’, in the ordinary way,

the bears growled, and the ducks quacked,

Henrietta was sure

that her moo was no more

she was sad but it seemed like a fact.

She tried with the sheep, who said not a peep,

so afraid were they of her growl,

she asked the giraffe

Who started to laugh

then the stick insects and guineafowl

Henrietta thought hard, had she played her last card?

She kicked thoughtfully at some logs,

she had asked one and all,

short, round and tall,

but why hadn’t she asked the dogs?

She started with poodles, with fur just like noodles,

Jack Russells, all covered with hair,

they all barked and woofed,

Henrietta just huffed,

till she saw one alone by a chair.

He was tiny and squat, and he sat in a pot

that should have been used for small plants

when he opened his snout

A loud ‘mooOOO!’ came out,

Henrietta started to dance.

‘My moo, my moo, it’s coming from you!

I’m so happy that it’s still around.’

The dog quite agreed

he was glad to be freed

from the really quite strange mooing sound

They swapped over quick, it was done in a tick,

then he was a dog, she a cow.

They made all their noises

now they had their voices

she went: ‘MoooOO,’ and he said: ‘bow, wOW!’

Barnaby Bottlestop’s Penny Bazaar

I did this one today, it just popped into my head for some reason.