One two three,
you can dance like me.

With arms held high
that's how you start,
let deh music touch your heart.

One two three,
you can dance like me.

Jumbie jump high
Jumbie jump low
Jumbie jumpin to calypso

Jumbie doin a dance
in de silk-cotton tree
he waitin for jouvay
an steelban music to breakaway

Lying on the sofa
all curled and meek
but in my furry-fuzzy head
there's a rapping beat.
Gonna rap while I'm napping
and looking sweet

Change was specially written for National Poetry Day 2018 

Change is always happening

It’s a fact my friend, it’s like fads and trends

Give me a smile
with lips stretched wide as a rubber band
and in between a set of straight white teeth
dazzling like a mirror ball.

Speak kindly to your little boy

And hug him when he cries.

Add kisses, kindness, time and love

Teach him to be wise.

Speak softly to your little girl

To vaguely amuse
And banish the blues
Writing clerihews
I would choose.

Mr Merryhew
Would ferry you
Across the Thames at Bray
On a tea tray.

I’m a spinning, winning, tripping, zipping, super-sonic ice queen:

See my moon zoom, clock my rocket, watch me splutter tricksy space-steam.

Five children clasping mittens
could not hug the entire trunk.
Whole hands could hide in the folds of its bark.
James, the tallest boy in class,
could sit on a root,

Late again Blenkinsop?
What's the excuse this time?
Not my fault sir.
Whose fault is it then?
Grandma's sir.
Grandma's. What did she do?