Fairy dreams

Fairy Dreams

By Marja Blom

Shhh… listen — do you hear the rustle?

Do you notice the huzzle and buzzle,

in the garden when it is spring,

with bugs, butterflies, and birds that sing?

But you are lucky, oh so indeed,

if you hear the pitter-patter of feet,

or the chitter-chatter from under a leaf 

it’s the sound of fairies, you must believe.

I found a book fairy under a palm;

his name was Page, and he was calm.

Collecting words was Page’s must 

he’d sprinkle them all with fairy dust.

Page gave each word a fairy sound,

like flutter flap flopsy fly around 

that means “a ball for butterflies,”

and trippety tea is a party for mice.

At the party, the mice hold their pinkies up,

sipping tea from a flower cup.

And bug buddy buzzy bee

is a race club for bees ....and it’s free!

Page rides along on the back of a bee,

buzzzzing circles around your bed, you see.

He whispers words in your ear on his flight,

giving you beautiful dreams at night.

Spots and dots

 Spots and dots
By Marja Blom

Chuck an old bug went for a walk and got stuck

Luckily he got help from a cute little bug

He asked little bug what he was doing here alone

"Oh" sighted little bug "I am always on my own"

The others don't like me because I haven't any spots

and you are only cool when you have lots of dots

Come with me little bug, where I live, dotless is the trend

Little bug looked surprised and became confident

He chatted and joked when they went on their way

A young bug heard his laughter and asked him to play

The two had great fun and became friends straight away

Little bug asked old chuck if his new friend could stay

"No he can't, at my place your friends spots will cause fear"

Does it so" mumbled little bug "than I will stay here"

"I like my new friend, about spots I don't care

I even wouldn't care if he had purple hair."

"That's fine" said Chuck and they went separate ways

Old Chuck the bug had a smile on his face.

Santa's beard

Santa’s Beard

One morning, after a deep, deep sleep,
Santa Claus heard a peep, peep, peep.
“Oh my,” he said, “that’s quite absurd
I think I’ve got a nest inside my beard!”

“Mrs. Claus, please take that bird away,”
He said with a frown and great dismay.
Mrs. Claus tried, but then got curious,
Why was the bird so quite furious?

Then next to the bird within his beard,
Eight wiggly, wobbly eyes appeared.
Four tiny chicks popped out with cheer,
And started squealing loud and clear!

“Oh Santa dear, I know what’s best
These chicks must keep their cozy nest.
But you can’t go out like that, you know,
That beard of yours will have to go!”

So Santa went and shaved his beard,
But Santa without one looked quite weird!
He bought a fake one, soft and curled,
And looked better than in the old world!

Now kids, if you give Santa’s beard a pull,
And find that it’s made of wool,
You’ll know the secret...believe my word
It’s because he had to save the birds!

A kiwi night before Christmas

Guest Poem

The New Zealand version of "The night before Christmas" by Yvonne Morrison

A Kiwi Night Before Christmas

It was the night before Christmas, and all round the bach

Not a possum was stirring; not one we could catch.

We left on the table a meat pie and beer,

In hopes that Santa Claus soon would be here.

We children were snuggled up in our bunk beds,

While dreams of pavlova danced in our heads;

And mum in her nightie, and dad in his shorts,

Had just settled down to watch TV sports.

When outside the bach such a ho-ha arose,

I woke up at once from my wonderful doze.

I ran straight to the sliding door, looking about,

Jumped out on the deck, and let out a shout.

The fairy lights dad had strung up around the door

Let me see everything down to the shore.

And what did I see, when I took a peep?

But a miniature tractor and eight tiny sheep.

With a little old driver, his dog on his knee.

I knew at once who this joker might be.

He patted his dog, and in a voice not unkind,

Cried "Good on ya, boy! Now, get in behind!

"Now, Flossy! now Fluffy! now Shaun and Shane!

On, Bossy! on, Buffy on, Jason and Wayne!

Up that red tree, to the top of the bach!

But mind you don't trample the vegetable patch."

So up on the roof those sheep quickly flew,

With the tractor of toys, Santa and his dog too.

As my sister awoke and I turn around,

In through the window he came with a bound.

He wore a black singlet and little white shorts,

And stuck on his feet were gumboots of course;

A sack full of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a postie just opening his pack.

His eyes right as paua shell - oh, how they twinkled!

Like an old tuatara, his skin was all wrinkled!

He had a wide face and a round, fat tummy,

That looked like he'd eaten lots that was yummy.

He spoke not a word, but got down on one knee,

And placed a cricket set under the tree,

A present for sis, one for dad, one for mum,

Then he turned and he winked and held up his thumb.

He jumped on his tractor, to his dog gave a whistle,

And away they all flew, as fast as a missile.

I called out "thanks," as he flew past the gate.

He called back: "Kia ora to all, and good on ya, mate."

Paradise Island

Paradise Island

Pssst — I played the most amazing game,
Come close, I’ll tell you its secret name.
I sailed to an island on a ship,
Where kids skate and skip without a slip.

On the island, I found a teepee,
Danced with Indians ’round a big old tree.
To their chief I said, “Tag—you’re it!”
He chased me with a spear but didn’t hit.

I also met Alice from Wonderland,
Joined her tea party, cup in hand.
We played with walking cards — Alice was better,
Even outshining the Mad Hatter.

Then some pirates threw me in the sea,
After Captain Hook played dice with me.
Peter Pan saved me from the sharks,
That was adventure—oh, what sparks!

With tiny Tinkerbell, I flew a kite,
Till Peter Pan brought me home at night.
I told Mum all the games I played,
She said, “Dreams are for bed. Now off — don’t stay!”

My dolls

My dolls
By Marja Blom

What a mess these toys she dares to say

she, who has never time to play
I'll tell you this you Miss O midy
You are the one who makes this place look untidy

What a snobbery, a snobbery

to want to do away
with these dolls of me
I confine in them, I dine with them

I drink a cup of tea with them

They play with me, they pray with me
They are patient when I talk oui oui
I am their mother, teacher friend

They've got all that time with me to spent

avec moi, with me, with me
They cuddle hug and snuggle me
At night when I'm alone in my bed

They look so pretty and cute to me

They are my dearest company
my dolls my friends to be

The dancing frog

The dancing Frog

By Marja Blom

One, two three O'clock four O'clock rock

In Billie's garden lives a dancing frog

on rock 'n roll he is particularly fond

when Billie plays the guitar he jumps out of the pond

He plays "rock around the clock tonight"

Frog moves his hips to the left and to the right

The frog makes a nice big turn around

Then he hops in the air and down to the ground

The lady frogs think he is cool and fun

One day he decided to marry one

They had a big party and frog stole the show

He danced like Elvis Presley and he made a little bow

After the marriage his lady said "You hear,

No more dancing is that clear."

From now on you bring some flies on the table

and  jump  like a frog if you are able

But when Billie wakes up one day at night

He looks out of the window and sees to his delight

on a lily pad a fat frog shakes and twists

He went out with his guitar; frog can I assist?

Superman goes French

Superman goes French
By Marja Blom

Last week a rumour went through town

Superman goes French they said with a frown
Oh la la, bonjour and Au revoir he said
He holds a French stick and wears a beret

He uses the stick to hit the enemy on his head

but all what happens is he breaks the bread
In the wrong direction Superman flies

Because that French beret covers his eyes

Yesterday we saw him eating some Brie

With a French lady who called him Mon Amie
But that was before he dismantled a bomb in her flat

She wanted to distroy the world with that

Superman delivered her to the police

He saved the earth said a press release

Beret thrown away, rumour deleted
French stick eaten, mission completed