Down behind the garden tree
I met a girl called Charlie
‘Move out of the way!’ she said
‘I need to go watch Barnie!’
Down Behind the garden tree
I found a little pebble
i looked at it and it said to me
‘hello, my name is revell’
Down behind the garden tree
I met a bee called Bill
‘can u quiet down a bit’ it said
‘im feelin rather ill!’
Written/Submitted by Sammy Lucas.
Sometimes my homework is small
Sometimes my homework is long
But whenever i do my homework
My homework is always wrong
Sometimes I do my homework at a slow pace
Sometimes I do my homework in the fast lane
But however I do my homework
my homework is still a pain
Sometimes my homework is easy
Sometimes my homework is hard
But whenever i can’t do my homework
I feel like a retard
Written/Submitted by Michael Rawlinson.
I Open My Windows and What do I See?
More Windows Waiting for Me.
I Open and Close
With the Click of My Mouse
And Watch the Whole World
From Inside My House
Explore Windows and ME
Written/Submitted by Diana J. Bishop.
Woke early one morning,
the earth lay cool and still,
when suddenly a tiny bird,
perched on my window sill,
it sang a song so lovely,
so carefree and so gay,
that slowly all my troubles,
began to slip away,
it sang of far off places,
of laughter and of fun,
it seemed his very song,
brought out the morning sun,
I pulled back the covers,
and crept slowly out of bed,
and gently shut the window,
and crushed his freaking head,
I’m not a morning person
Written/Submitted by Danielle D. Curtis.
Love is when someone likes your ways,
and you like their ways too.
that person will always have a loved one.
and that loved ones always you,
its on the inside,
not how they look.
some people steel other’s heart’s
but its not always in a book.
Written/Submitted by Shalanda Kindred.
ITALIA! thou art fallen, though with sheen
Of battle-spears thy clamorous armies stride
From the north Alps to the Sicilian tide!
Ay! fallen, though the nations hail thee Queen
Because rich gold in every town is seen,
And on thy sapphire lake in tossing pride
Of wind-filled vans thy myriad galleys ride
Beneath one flag of red and white and green.
O Fair and Strong! O Strong and Fair in vain!
Look southward where Rome’s desecrated town
Lies mourning for her God-anointed King!
Look heaven-ward! shall God allow this thing?
Nay! but some flame-girt Raphael shall come down,
And smite the Spoiler with the sword of pain.
Written/Submitted by Oscar Wilde.
Yea im a girl so why do you care
if i do my makeup and style my hair
it may take some time but i dont care at all
but at least i dont have to worry if its big or small
i dont need to lye about who i am or why
and you cant say you know, i can tell when you lie
i justify it is ok to flurt
but at least i dont take pride outta other peoples hurt
i can show you how i feel by myself with this little rhyme
and i dont need my friends to hold my hand all the time
so as you see guys are all the same
becuase unlike guys girls remember your name
Written/Submitted by Kristy Hall.
THE silver trumpets rang across the Dome:
The people knelt upon the ground with awe:
And borne upon the necks of men I saw,
Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.
Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,
And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,
Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head:
In splendour and in light the Pope passed home.
My heart stole back across wide wastes of years
To One who wandered by a lonely sea,
And sought in vain for any place of rest:
“Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest,
I, only I, must wander wearily,
And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears.”
Written/Submitted by Oscar Wilde.
On the Ning Nang Nong
Where the Cows go Bong!
And the Monkeys all say Boo!
Theres a Nang Nong Ning
Where the trees go Ping!
And the tea pots Jibber Jabber Joo
On the Nong Ning Nang
All the Mice go Clang!
And you just cant catch em when they do!
So its Ning Nang Nong!
Cows go Bong!
Nong Nang Ning!
Trees go Ping!
Nong Ning Nang!
The mice go Clang!
What a noisy place to belong,Is the Ning Nang Ning Nang Nong!
Written/Submitted by Spike Milligan.
I STOOD by the unvintageable sea
Till the wet waves drenched face and hair with spray,
The long red fires of the dying day
Burned in the west; the wind piped drearily;
And to the land the clamorous gulls did flee:
“Alas!” I cried, “my life is full of pain,
And who can garner fruit or golden grain,
From these waste fields which travail ceaselessly!”
My nets gaped wide with many a break and flaw
Nathless I threw them as my final cast
Into the sea, and waited for the end.
When lo! a sudden glory! and I saw
The argent splendour of white limbs ascend,
And in that joy forgot my tortured past.
Written/Submitted by Oscar Wilde.