How to send a poem to Poetry Box; and Charlotte looks under a hat and in a pocket

Sometimes I have trouble reading the poems you send in. Esecially if it is an attachment via Google Docs. And if you send a PDF, I have to take a screen shot and sometimes the poem won’t fit.

Easiest thing for me is if you send a word doc or a jpeg.

 

 

Charlotte’s teacher sent in these two cool poems for a poem-inspired-by-another-poem challenge. I had to get them resent so I could read them and in my fuzz forgot to post them.

So here they are. I love the language, the imagination and the sense of humour. Great idea to swap the back of the chair for a pocket!

Congratulations Charlotte. I am going to send you a copy of my book, The Letterbox Cat. Charlotte is in Year 5, aged 9 and goes to Chelsea Primary School.

 

 

Jacket Pockets  

Inspired by Margaret  Mahy’s  ‘Down in the Back of the Chair’

What will anyone ought to
find there?
Gran’s old glasses,
50 ticket passes,
Mum’s old sachets
for super strong coffee?
Lola’s mushy toffee?
A roller coaster,
ol’ Jimmy’s toaster,
the Spanish visitor’s
beach ball?
Or the little weirdo roaster?

Although the pockets are only small,
I have before found more than 100
beach balls…

I wear my jacket when I’m cold,
it brings back memories,
when I first
painted the dog gold!
It’s a treasure chest!
From fabric to wire mesh!

It’s not much,
Antique?
Not such…

From trash to treasure, there is no measure!
This is my jacket,
These are my pockets,
And this is the end of my poem.

 

A Pizza?
Inspired by Paula Green’s ‘The Hat’

I really don’t want to be rude,
But when Lola last came here she said “Dude!”
“The meatballs have spinach,
and fudge is all water!
I doubt if the spaghetti was a cinch!”

When the old lady next door,
tried your cake,
she fell to the floor!
Her hair was gold,
I think we put fly spray in,
cause now the poor lady’s
BALD!

Yes the lunches, they are yum,
But quietly my friends squish the spaghetti
with their thumbs…
I do tell them to “STOP”
cause, reluctantly the janitor
dumps it all with the mop.

Dinner is fun,
if we get the quiche done,
BUT if we order by the phone,
and if we never mind the loan…

Dinner is better,
the benches won’t get any wetter,
I Promise, I Promise, I Promise!

It won’t hurt-
The lady next door won’t have to keep
her poor head bald…

It won’t hurt to have a…
PIZZA?

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