I love a good rhyme.
Here are a couple of stories I'm working on at the minute which will soon be kids books.
CHRISTMAS CROCODILE
It is the time of darkest nights
Houses lit with coloured lights
Santa, elves and winter weather
Family and friends together
Mounds of snow and present piles
Carol singers gifts and smiles
It is no place for Crocodiles
Who live far away on tropic isles
Crisp and cold, it’s made for those
who do not mind a chilly toe
With fur of white designed for snow
Who perch in trees with Mistletoe
Frosty paths with Robins bobbing
Warm fires hung with bulging stockings
Reindeers flying never stopping
Polar bears and Christmas shopping
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Animals of the winter season
Penguins in the Polar region
Donkeys, Partridge, Goose and Hare
All frolic in the frosty air
But there is another celebration
Crocodile has invitations
for animals who don’t belong
In festive cards or Christmas songs
Aardvark, Puffin, Elephant
Komodo Dragon, Soldier ant
Slugs and Snails
Sharks and Whales
Invited to sing Jingle bells
Because Christmas is a time for all
It doesn't matter if you crawl
if you slither, fly or swim
there’s always room so let’s begin!
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Find your place amongst our crowd
Of welcome guests we’re all allowed
to pull a cracker, wear a hat
to eat and eat ‘til very fat.
And as you laugh and play and smile
Think of the Christmas Crocodile
Who wanted each and every beast
To come enjoy his festive feast.
TEA FROGS
Why would you drink a cup of hot tea?
Brown, wet and cosy is where frogs love to be.
These frogs can’t resist
the hot milky whiff
A chance for some bathing
just cannot be missed.
The slimy green pests
Slip out of their nests
To swim, spit and gargle in the drink they love best.
They’ll hide under the teabags
Slip under a spout
They’ll lick all your biscuits if you’re not about.
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They’ll backstroke
They’ll Frontstroke
They’ll bob and they’ll float
If you leave them forever they’ll wallow and soak
Please watch out you drinkers
And don’t get upset
If you swallow a tea frog you’ll never forget
The slippy green legs
The slimy green bum
Swishing and washing straight into your tum
So before you relax
With tea and some snacks
Make sure froggins aren’t bobbing
around on their backs.
INSPECTOR MINGO
DETECTIVE FLAMINGO
Mingo lives on a huge golden lake
In a far off land called Watanake
He wades through the shallows on watery hikes
Checking it’s depth with his long legged stripes
Today my legs seem a little bit dry?
The water, it seems, is not very high!
He looked at the water and his long-legged stripes
My goodness he said, things cannot be right
The water is draining! The lake’s drying up
Before too long they’ll be no more than a cup
Please help said the fish! Please help said the frog
Don’t let our lake dry to a sticky wet bog!
Mingo was ready. Mingo was smart
He’d discover the problem. But where should he start?
He looked for the river that used to run in
It was now just a trickle -this way! Let’s begin.
Upstream he walked over dry stones and rocks
‘The water is missing’ said crinkled old crocs
Reaching a hill and straight into the mist
To find what’s become of the water we miss
At the edge of the forest, a great curving wall!
Where once we enjoyed a great waterfall.
The humans have blocked it. They’ve taken the rain
They’ve trapped all the water for personal gain.
MIngo was angry. Mingo was sad.
He knew he must do a thing that was bad
So he warmed up his neck. He tested his beak
It was time to create a crack and a leak
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He started to scratch and he started to scrape
He must make a hole for the water’s escape
But the dam was too tall. The dam was too tough
His beak on it’s own just wasn’t enough
So he squalked and he called right back to the lake
I need your stout beaks, the whole river’s at stake!
He waited and hoped that the birds would arrive
If they all worked together the river survives!
It seemed like forever until Mingo awoke
To a sound in the air, it was feathery hope!
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Many thousands of birds flocked up into view
Beaks sharpened and ready to chisel and chew
Nibbles became crumbles and scrapes became gaps
In a matter of moments it had started to crack
The water began to pour through the hole
A trickle, a torrent, then out of control
It washed over pebbles and sun-warmed old rocks
Refilling the river and replenishing stocks
It gobbled old puddles and created new streams
Recharging the hole where Crocs like to scheme
With a splash and whoosh it had rushed to the end
The lake was refilling with water again
Together they’d saved their watery homes
The bravest thing they’d ever known
As the warm water rose, the animals chose
To swim, leap and gargle in freshwater flows
And it’s where you’ll find Mingo on watery hikes
Checking the depth with his long-legged stripes