Recipe

When making up this recipe the first thing that you need
 is a bit if crinkled paper and a pen that doesn't bleed
you'll also need a cupboard that's filled up with useless junk
and a giant steel mixing bowl that's bigger than a trunk
you add a pinch of this and that and taste along the way
with giants globs of you don't know but add it anyway
and every time you add a thing you take and write it down
then stir it up and watch it turn a kind of muddy brown
And once it's done you get to do the most important bit
you take a big old spoonful and you raise it to your lip
and, WHAT THE HECK YOU DOING!?! I didn't say to Eat!
Who eats a cure for bunions? You PUT IT ON YOUR FEET!

Oppressive Weather Poem

There was a feeling of oppression when I woke today for school

It wasn’t homework or the test I had to do,

It might have been the weather, the sky was darkened by thick clouds

And the raindrops pattered thickly into pools

It was frightening in its fury as the wind began to blow

The trees began to shake under the strain

And as I sheltered by the fire wondering which button turned it on

I wondered why it was I couldn’t hear

I could see the storm was howling, I could see that it was fierce

But the library was silent all around

And it might have been exhaustion as I curled up on the couch

And it might have been just boredom but not fear

For I thought if I could fall asleep and wake, then I would find

The weather calm and all the storm a dream

And I’d find myself at home in be surrounded by my toys

All snuggled safely underneath my quilt

And for am minute it was true and for a minute I was there

But then I had a feeling as of guilt

And I woke and knew I was at school, procrastinating   time

When the test is where I should have had my mind

For the storm was not that scary and the weather not that bad

Just cold and gloomy, not enough to cancel class

Maunta

I've got myself a maunta, who takes good care of me
a mom, an aunt, a grandma, combined in one for me
a sage and wise advisor, a kind and loving cook,
a nagging worried matriarch who shoots me dirty looks,
a fun adventuring buddy, someone to count on all the time,
I've got myself a maunta, and the best part is she's mine.

The Tale of Hannah and Anna

Now, Hannah and Anna were fairies
who lived in a forrested glade
and one day they were having a picknick
'neath a Rowan tree and its fine shade

When sudden the grass began stirring
and riding the wind came a howl
and their picknick was certainly ruined
by a feeling of something most foul

Then out of the forrest a wolf came
A slavering fierce looking beast
with eyes glowing red and sharp teeth that brought dread
as he surveyed the glen for a feast

Now, Hannah and Anna were frightened
too late, there was no place to hide
but they bravely put forth smiling faces
if nothing else they'd die with pride

But the wolf wasn't slavering or beastly
and his eyes were just red from his tears
"I've a thorn in my foot can you help me?"
his words banished the fairies' fears

So, Hannah and Anna they helped him
and pulled out the thorn from his foot
And then they all three, sat down to have tea
While the wolf held his cup with his foot