Sign up to our newsletter
Find out more about our new online CPD to provide extra support for your literacy curriculum
To vaguely amuseAnd banish the bluesWriting clerihewsI would choose.
Mr MerryhewWould ferry youAcross the Thames at BrayOn a tea tray.
I am the word juggler.I juggle the wordslike swords.I slice sensewith poetic license.
I feel it, first as a stir,turning deep in the murky water.Surfaces up for air, a twitchon the lake in my head.A flip, and it disappears.
I am the clash and collide of the starsbecause I create worlds.
I am the awareness of the treesbecause I hear the wind.
Newly baked and fresh todayEat while hot or take away.
The light through the blind is a poem,
the way it illuminates air.
And the shadows that fall
on the floor and the wall
are signs that a poem is there.
The man sitting on the settee,stroking a cat and watching TVisn't me.I am the settee.
The space is a friend.I tell it what hurts.
I tell it why I'm not good.The space is a friend.I tell it the bother I'm in.It won't let me tell lies.
Thinker to Jace
If I'm not reciting a poem,
my tongue won't let me talk,
I can only bark.
But barking can't say much,
A poem is not an Antbut it can be quite short.A poem is not a Bananabut there may be something under its skin.A poem is not a Coat