Quotes about mummy, page 5
Skipping!
A little girl was skipping;
As she swung her skipping rope
The neighbors heard her singing
And the song she sang was - Quote:
'Mummy's in the parlour
And she's there with Uncle Fred,
Daddy's in the garage
Says she's doing in his head,
Auntie Jane was crying
Now she's swimming in the pool
And I must keep on skipping
'Til it's time to go to school.'
The neighbors saw her skipping
All along the afternoon,
She skipped a hundred singles
As she sang her little tune:
'Mummy's saying nothing
[...] Read more
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Crooked Cats
I know of three cats that have eyes of fire
and one of them likes to climb the church spire.
He is a scaredy cat when mum comes a calling
because he is just afraid of falling.
Number two cat with his burning eyes of fire
just loves to play in the mooreland mire.
He never stops to think that some day he might sink
and there will be no one around to pull him to the brink.
Number three cat is wise now aint that a surprise
and she is also keen at telling lies.
One day she told Mummy cat that her Brothers were dead
so she could eat the food that they were to be fed.
Now Mummy cat was also wise and she did not belive
those dreadful lies.
When it was time for dinner number three cat got thinner.
When out came a dish that was full of fish and there was
nothing left for her to finish.
(The Moral of this story is if you play with fire you can get burnt)
poem by Sylvia Spencer
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My Favorite blanket
When I was very little
I had a favorite blanket
I named her (For to me that
fluffy piece of fabric with
threads hanging off it,
was a girl) Yes I named her
Boobie
Now boobie was 'brown'
with small flecks of 'fawn'
she Hung by my side from dusk
until dawn.
One day as I sat in my 'beige' child's seat
with a 'chocolate' ice cream I was trying to eat
it melted and covered me from head to my feet
my boobie and I were stuck to the seat
Chocolate everywhere
Everything turned 'brown' including the 'beige'
little chair I now found.
Mummy would be so angry I knew
so I decided on what I must do
[...] Read more
poem by Janice M Pickett
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The Scream Of Edvard Munch
i look at it again. I have read the story
how the scream came about as an important piece of
art in our history.
it was said that he visited his sister in
a mental asylum located at the foot of a hill
in the nearby creek in one of the far towns in Norway.
he was sad and had all the pity for his sister.
He felt inside his heart the eruption of Krakatoa
her saw the picture how 2/3 of the island was missing
by the thickness of the lava.
He saw the mummy of Peru.It was another sad story.
He pieced them together. Fused them all with his own kind
of misery.
He was on a small boat heading home.
Nature screams. The volcano. The mummy. And the misery
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Monsters Planned Halloween Night
Let me give an updat of Halloween night
When Freddie Krueger and Jason got into a fight.
Blood was flying all around
Yet not one of them made a sound.
Their instruments of death as sharp as can be
And the ending - no one could foresee.
They were joining forces for Halloween night
Since all the Halloween crowd would be waiting for them
Because at midnight the scaring would end.
Now that all the revelers were here
They would plan their rants and jeers.
FREDDIE would pull them out of bed
Then the GRIM REAPER would cut off their heads
Then DRACULA would suck them dry
And their bodies the goblins would hide.
The GHOSTS and WITCHES decided to do their thing
And the frightened victims they would bring.
[...] Read more
poem by Louis Rams
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One day pehaps I'll understand Tissues warning
They say there is no Santa Claus
the bigger kids. Its just your dad
I don’t believe their lies of course
Although sometimes it makes me sad
I haven’t got a dad you see.
He died a long, long time ago
There’s just my mum my sis and me
That’s why I’m certain that I know.
There has to be a Santa Claus.
On Christmas morning there will be.
Some presents for each of us
in piles beneath the Christmas tree.
I only six but I know this.
That Santa works all through the night
making sure he does not miss.
A chance to bring a child delight.
[...] Read more
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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One day perhaps I'll understand.
They say there is no Santa Claus
the bigger kids. Its just your dad
I don’t believe their lies of course
Although sometimes it makes me sad
I haven’t got a dad you see.
He died a long, long time ago
There’s just my mum my sis and me
That’s why I’m certain that I know.
There has to be a Santa Claus.
On Christmas morning there will be.
Some presents for each of us
in piles beneath the Christmas tree.
I only six but I know this.
That Santa works all through the night
making sure he does not miss.
A chance to bring a child delight.
[...] Read more
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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From A to Z.
I do everything with you from A to Z.
From the moment you wake up
Till I pat you on your head,
And tuck you up into bed.
I do everything with you
For you, because the day
Starts and finishes with you
Because I love you!
I need your laughter
Because I need your fun, my son
This wintery cold dreary Easter
What I don't need, is your strops.
When you get out of bed
And I don't have your Coco Pops
Let's just have Cornflakes, instead.
And be done my son.
When you couldn't get your way
Alas; once again, the other day.
[...] Read more
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Death Of A Mad Dictator
Mum the word; he is now a mummy.
He is no longer a despicable dummy.
What an immensely momentous event!
Crime never pays, even if you are an arrogant
Tyrant. You give respect and you will be respected.
This is a victory for the oppressed, humiliated,
Castrated, electrocuted, murdered and violated
Sons and daughters of God. Allah is good,
Allahu akbar! Allah provides food
And gives strength to the mothers,
Whose offsprings were executed by the murderers.
The executions of two recent mad dogs are reminders
That all men and women are of equal
Values. Freedom of speech is a gift from the eternal
God at birth. Babies cry to affirm their existence.
Freedom of expression, freedom of resistance
Are sacred. Never be afraid to express yourself.
Never be afraid to fight the oppressive elf.
Under the light of the moon, all matters will rot
And return to their original forms. There is a small lot
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poem by Hebert Logerie
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Penitence
PENITENCE
"Oh! Mummy, Mummy, see, "
Came rushing my little girl of three;
Into my fold she snuggled tight,
Fully exhausted by the horrible fright.
Her scream of terrible scare,
The maternal heart could hardly bear;
Twitching to keep her fear at bay,
Kissed I, her rolling tears away.
"Why my dear, did you scream?
Were you really in your dream? "
Enquired I stroking her fringe of hair,
And to pry, left my easy-chair.
"Ah! mum, there—there, see—
Ghost, a ghost—under the tree! "
Mumbled out the innocent child,
[...] Read more
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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