#Poetry – Elevate from noisy spheres

It is in silence I create, I can decipher, I can relate
Random gems of unknown purity, bubble up from deep obscurity
Bubbling up clear unfettered, not encased in tunes so lettered

I know the silence that you seek, a place to ponder a place to speak
Not with words that close your mind, but open pathways all entwined
For in this place you can create, you can reflect, you can debate

And when all thoughts have quietened down, and questions lose their tensioned frown
You elevate from noisy spheres, and find that space set free from fear
A masterpiece is what you paint, random sketches of a saint.

DEE GRANT 2021

Photo by Simon Migaj on Pexels

#Poetry – Wet and wild doggy day

Happy barks resound across a damp and soggy noon

Dogs just glad to be let out, their barks create a tune. Some high some low. Some fast some slow. A baritone or two, create a chorus on the grass that’s loud and fun and true.

They march through giant puddles and with each resounding bark, they wag their tails, run and splash, in this wet and sodden park. 

DEE GRANT 2021

Photo by Jack Geoghegan on Pexels.com

Inspired after listening to all the dogs at the local park today. It has been raining heavy for over a week. There are floods in Greater Sydney and up and down the State of NSW. A house was even swept away. Today a break in the weather so lots of dogs and their owners out and about.

#Poetry – Why artists paint

It’s colour, it’s form, it’s shade and technique. It’s the artist personified, original, unique!

We’re all just creative and passionately draw. We’ll draw on your woodwork, your wall or your door. Just give the OK and we’ll be there today, drawing pictures and paintings ’til the day gets away.

Did you want a commission? We can help you with that. We’ll pull out our paints and put on our hat. With berets in place we’ll draw up the plan. We’ll sort out the colours cause you know that we can.

At the end we’ll stand back with arms folded and beam. It’s no longer blank space…it’s an artists dream.

DEE GRANT 2021

#Poetry – Fishing Rod Races

The fish may not be biting but bored they’ll never be, cause they’re running on the boardwalk right there in front of me. 

Are they fishing rods or horses cause they seem to gallop on, pounding the boardwalk with their playful cheery song.

Boys with cheeky grins, with rods extended out. They run the race, reach the end, and turn themselves about. 

With slower pace these thoroughbreds wander back to fish. They bait their hooks, cast their lines. I know for what they wish!

I was walking along the boardwalk today. It was overcast but I was struck by the playfulness of a few boys that had come down with their dad to fish. Fishing with dad as a kid I know it can be ages before you get even a nibble. Great to see these boys were mixing up their day with this odd race along the boardwalk. It was hilarious!

Photo by Mau00ebl BALLAND on Pexels.com

On the Tube – by Charlotte Smith

Today my young guest rhymer, Charlotte Smith, shares the things she enjoyed on her recent summer holiday.

As the seagulls squalk, and the pelicans soar, the dolphins swim and the sharks are seen no more

As the dingos roar and the boats go rumble, we go on the tube and take a tumble.

I’ve done a few flips, I’ve had a few flops, but never will I ever forget this awesome shot.

BY CHARLOTTE SMITH 2021

#Poetry – Superdog

Superdog is cute and small. Superdog loves playing ball.

While he can’t grab a bat, hit a ball, or make it splat, Superdog’s a mean machine, eyes like a hawk, willing and keen. 

Yes Superdog is cute and small but don’t misled if you throw that ball! Lightening speed caught mid air, he catches it with talent and flair. 

That’s Superdog so cool and small. Superdog the greatest dog of all! 

DEE GRANT 2020

I wrote this just for kids. 🙂

#Poetry – Flip Flops Fashionista

A multicoloured beach towel draped off her suntanned shoulder. Her trendy looking sunnies made her look that little older. She gently poured the sunscreen on her glistening skin and laughed at how the fake tan sure made her look so thin. 

Haviana’s are her flip flops. She walks onto the sand. She quickly flips them off, and holds them in her hand. It’s going to the beach she says. It’s the way we do it now. All about the swimsuit and a bod that just says wow.

Now you might think I’m shallow but I’m young and fun and free. Youth don’t last forever so on the beach I’ll be.

For Ella

BY DEE GRANT 2020

#Poetry – Spell of the harbour

We’re paddling our boat along the water glistening. In sparkling shades of white and blue I hear the harbour listening. 

Our laughter mixes on the breeze and joins each splash of oar, as the harbour listens to our tales that echo to the shore.

Picnics greet us round the bend with trees so lush and green. Still the harbour listens. Each picture paints a scene.

Along the shore past piers and parks, cicada’s chirping loudly. Our final clip the Harbour Bridge it greets us oh so proudly.

Exhausted now we moor our boat and bid a fond farewell. We won’t resist another trip it has us in her spell.

BY DEE GRANT 2020

Sydney Harbour looking west from Lady Macquarie’s Chair

#Poetry – Blood Sucking Monsters

I read today that mozzies love sweat, smells of floral, and beer…you bet. If water hangs ’round more than a week. There’ll be out by the hundreds. The outlook is bleak!

Cause they’ll get you at sunset or sunrise if they can. They’ll breed in still water a saucepan or pan. Bet your sick of them buzzing and biting. It’s shite! So how can you stop those bites in the night.

If your aircon drips water when its working away, drop in oil or vinegar or empty that tray. Put wet sand round your plants if you must use a saucer, no bird baths or dog bowls if that water gets older. You don’t want it stagnant and hanging around,  keep it moving and fresh or they’ll feel safe and sound. Then there’s herbs, and nets, and bug spray you bet. Potions old potions new, you’d think we’d be set.

Those blood sucking monsters won’t see no reason, there still licking their lips as they wait for that season.

BY DEE GRANT 2020

Sick of hitting you head as you try to swat that mozzie? I love putting facts to rhyme so I thought I’d throw this one together. They say there is a mosquito plague in Sydney at the moment so ‘fat chance’ I’ll get it sorted with so many apartments next to me. ‘Not sure it will make a scrap of difference’ but I guess it’s ‘worth a crack’.

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Phrase meaning

  • Fat chance – Not much chance
  • Not sure it will make a scrap of difference – Not sure it will make any difference
  • Worth a crack – Worth trying

#Poetry – Fall and leaves and Christmas trees

Fall and leaves and Christmas trees have things in common if you please. For I  was spinning on a chair, lost my balance, landed there.

My fall was on a Christmas tree. It’s baubles were a part of me. With twinkling stars within my hair, I knew it saved me from despair.

It was so soft with leaves of green, it didn’t hurt no bruise was seen. Fall and leaves and Christmas trees now twinkling stars are part of me. 

Photo by willsantt on Pexels.com

Wonder how Santa feels falling down a chimney all the time? This sweet little musing is based on a fall I had when visiting friends a few years ago.