Naiveties and Nursery Rhymes

Words, poems, rhymes and songs

Category: Poem (page 1 of 3)

Conker Poem 2 (cinquain)


Brown brilliance

Tree gems hidden in green.

Frozen tears of a woody god


Conker Poem 1

It’s the season

To make William the Conker jokes.

Laughing until we are hoarse.

That old chestnut.

Eric Peter Hughes

Eric Peter Hughes

With a gentle laugh he did enthuse

His sister, nephew, nieces, Mum

After all, he was brother, uncle, son.


He was half a biker, hippie, smoker

Disappearer, loner.

And half a carer, porter, nurse.

For years his dog came first.


What if Uncle Peter

Had not been bullied in teenage years?

Had had more encouraging peers?


What if his creative, artistic bent

Had been nurtured to fulfillment?

Talents left to grow wild

From this once talkative and contented child

It could have been so different.


Yet remember not that other half.

Remember instead the gentle laugh,

The calming manner, twinkling eye,

The way he spoke to you and I,

The loyal care he gave his Mum.

This uncle, brother, son.



Elegant words.

Poetic perfection

Five lines, twenty two syllables

Of verse.

Time is Fleeting

Sitting in a meeting

Welsh bloke talking

Time is fleeting

Lilting, yawning,

Been going on since early morning.

Weary, dreary.

Yet far from here

In other places

Boss is stressing

Stamps and paces

Time is fleeting

Heart stops beating


Blue lights dancing

Not so drear, shouts of “Clear!”

Panic, yelling, screaming, bleating

Time is fleeting

And in the meeting

Someone complains about the heating

Heavy eyes and tepid tempers

Dormant egos attempt a doze

Hollow people, stuck in treacle

Talked out, ear drought

Famine fish in desert


Brains have taken such a beating.

Time is fleeting

In the lowest, darkest room

Grey-tiled, antiseptic tomb:

Sticky silence lost.

No beating on the granite bed

No heating here, just cold instead

No meeting for the gathered dead

Time has fled.

The Letter E

I feel sorry for E

It’s such a loner

Always on the edge of a word.

Never fully included.

It used to be magic

But now it’s been relegated.

To a split digraph.

Less wizard, more mathematical.

Just a sub-section of a more important grouping.

An operator that makes a long vowel sound.

Only to be dropped

When a suffix is found.

E is not very musical.

You don’t find it much in wind or brass

Nor in the rhythm section of the band.

And in the key of E, there are too many sharps.

Unless you are a guitarist.

As for vocals, well…

If I sing a song, a song was sung.

So I know I sang a song.

All the other vowels have a go on the mic.

But not E.

Unless it’s karaoke.

All the E words are going.

Is being short for ‘electronic’ enough,

When email becomes Gmail

and Ebook becomes iBook?

And in teaching, even ‘Excellent’

(which is full of Es)

has been replaced by Outstanding.

I guess some things have their time

And then diminish…

They have a good run,

But then they finish.

It seems unfair to me:

It’s not nice to see

Like a slowly withering tree

Or a graze on the knee.

I say don’t mistreat the E

It is the letters’ honey bee

So pay the E its fee

And let the E be free.

Love Poem Number Five

You be the kiss

I’ll be the lips

You be the broccoli

I’ll be the chips.

I’ll be your sensation:

The beauty you eyed;

You be the action

Steamed, boiled or fried.

Love Poem Number Four

You be my central heating

I’ll be your radiator

You be my poison

I’ll be your exterminator.

I’ll position you carefully

Your heat will go through me

You can kill off my rats

And burn fuel efficiently.

Love Poem Number Three

You be my razor

I’ll be your face

You be my starting gun

I’ll be your race.

I’ll give you a distance

But my wrinkles may trouble

You can set me going

And shave off my stubble.

Love Poem Number Two

You be my ocean

I’ll be your peach

You be my peach factory

I’ll be your peach

You can sort me and slice me

In the seas, I’ll confide.

I’ll fit into your can

I’ll cushion your tide.

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