The Book Tree - Kerry Gittins original stories, poetry and book reviews. - Poetry

I Wish . . .

Tue, 03 Oct 2023 03:50:28 GMT

I wish I’d taken more time to listen.
I wish I’d taken more time to see.
I wish I’d taken more time to talk,
before things changed for you and me.

I woke one beautiful autumn day
to find you’d suddenly gone away,
without a chance to say goodbye.
The years had gone in the blink of an eye.

A little child that held your hand
and traced our names upon the sand.
You laughed as waves licked our toes,
then brushed the ice cream off my nose.

When I grew up and moved away,
you never said that I should stay.
‘Go see the world without regret.
I’ll be right here so don’t forget.’

I wish I’d taken more time to show you.
I wish I’d taken more time to touch.
I wish I’d taken more time to sit
and tell you I love you very much.

Photo by Pixabay

Follow The Line by Kerry Gittins

Mon, 10 Apr 2023 23:21:03 GMT

This entry made it to the Lighthouse Arts Exhibition to accompany the beautiful artwork by Linda Lunnon.

A line of white amongst the grey, that tells you she is here to stay.

A knotted line of braid hung low, that tells you there’s still far to go.

A wrinkled line upon her face, that tells you she is full of grace.

A laughter line around her eyes, that tells you she is kind and wise.

Follow the lines marked on her skin, that hold a magic deep within.

A magic of the earth and skies, to see those things beyond our eyes.

Follow the lines along her hands, that tell you she is from this land.

A land so ancient, steeped in lines, of stories told before our time.

This woman stands so proud and true, accepting me accepting you.

As humans, friends, someone to cherish for she has seen so many perish.

Those lines that tell us how to cope, and always know that there is hope.

Hope for all to live and be, upon this earth in harmony.

Kool Kalahari Kats

Wed, 22 Mar 2023 01:28:09 GMT

This was written in response to the image prompt below and posted on the
Australian Children's Poetry website.

Ladies and gentlemen please take your seats, for soon you will hear music mellow and sweet.

A band of three brothers whose sound is well known, on vocals, guitar and smooth saxophone.

They’ve played their soul music all over the sands, and gained a huge mob of adoring jazz fans.

Many have gathered to hear Michael croon, including hyenas and blues mad baboons.

The same for young Larkin whose skill on guitar, has hogs and hares smitten from towns near and far.

And then there is Charlie. His alto sax tunes cause gemsboks and cheetahs to sway and to swoon.

Hush now and listen on this moonlit night, to sounds I am sure will thrill and delight,

as three jazzy brothers get ready to play, until the dawn comes to herald the day!

The Fox by Kerry Gittins

Tue, 30 Aug 2022 00:20:14 GMT

This is a new poem written about an encounter between myself and a fox on a cold snowy night in Lausanne. It was magical seeing this beautiful animal watching me by the light of a city street lamp.

Photo from Pexels by Alex Andrews

The night is cold and filled with stars.
The snow is soft and fresh.
Do you see me? I think you do.
Soft brown ears twitch, listening.
Long tail straight, waiting.
Eyes shine, unblinking.
You are ready to run, to vanish.
But you are as curious as I.
You wonder why I am here.
I wonder the same about you.
It seems both of us are out of place.
Seeing you is a wonderful, magical thing,
a reminder of my home before the city.
I kneel, quietly, carefully.
You sniff the crisp air, and in a flash,
you are gone.
And I suddenly feel hopeful.
Perhaps the city won't be so bad.
After all, if you can be here, maybe I can too.

The Small Boy by Kerry Gittins

Tue, 12 Jul 2022 03:17:46 GMT

Photo from Pexels by Dominika Roseclay

I am a small boy that much is true They say I’m mischievous. Do you think so too?
A mischievous boy - am I really or not? What does the word mean? I hear it A LOT!
This very big word that some people say. It’s one that I hear almost every day,
whenever I go to climb up a tree to try and search for that fat bumblebee,
or go to the garden to find a green frog who’s ribbeting, robbeting under a log.
‘He’s up to something’, says my sister. Then Mum says ‘Now just remember mister,
DO NOT put that bumblebee onto a spoon and shoot with your slingshot the bee to the moon,
for though you may think he knows how to fly he’s not really built to fly up so high.’
‘DO NOT bring the frog from outside to in to stare at me out of the biscuit tin,
for though you may think he likes TimTams the best, he really likes flies and insects and pests.’
And while both my mother and sister stare, I shake my head, ‘No never – I swear!’
I don't understand how they would think I’d do such strange things. I stand and blink,
with eyes all wide and innocent, then, I find in my pocket my ballpoint pen,
and decide then and there that I should write, what a good boy I am. That I'd NEVER invite
a frog to come into my mum's biscuit tin to eat all the Timtams – who’d do such a thing!
I NEVER would try to shoot to the moon that fat bumblebee with a slingshot and spoon!
I look from my note as I finish and see my mother and sister smiling at me.
“He's got that mischievous look in his eye”, they say as they wink at each other and sigh.
Later that night as I go to my sleep, I keep one eye open and see mother peep
her head round my door and blow me a kiss. ‘Sleep well and sweet dreams and always know this -
you are much loved and bring us such joy, and really you are a good little boy’.
I am a small boy - that much you knew. I’m a little mischievous. Yes that is true!
But one thing I know I will never feel blue, because I'm much loved and I hope you are too!

The Spell

Thu, 26 May 2022 07:11:16 GMT

THE SPELL
Watch out for the witch who is standing nearby
with wand at the ready! Make sure you don’t try

to stop and to chat. She does not like this.
She’s not very friendly so give it a miss.

If you catch her eye be sure to run fast
or else upon you a spell she will cast

I made the mistake of saving a bug.
So what did she do? Turned me into a pug!

That’s not the worst thing as pugs are quite cute,
The worst thing is now I’m short and hirsute!

Photo from Pexels by Charles

Autumn Leaves

Wed, 11 May 2022 04:01:45 GMT

Big leaf, small leaf
Green leaf, brown leaf
Red leaf, yellow leaf
So many leaves

Cat shaped, dog shaped
Bird shaped, fish shaped
Mouse shaped, house shaped
So many leaves

Pile high, jump in
Pile low, jump out
Throw up, throw down
So many leaves

Wind blows, leaves fall
Rain comes, leaf puddles
Sun’s out, leaves sparkle
Autumn is here.

Seven Small Letters

Wed, 06 Apr 2022 03:46:59 GMT

Seven small letters is all that you need
to IMAGINE new things, to plant a new seed.

IMAGINE you’ve climbed to the top of a tree
and see a horizon as wide as can be.

IMAGINE you are a dragon or bird
or sitting on top of a star. How absurd!

IMAGINE a day with rain or with snow
and when they are done out comes a rainbow.

IMAGINE adventure upon the high seas
with treasure and pirates with knobbly knees.

IMAGINE you’re now tucked up safe in your bed
and those seven letters spell DREAMER instead.

A Perfect Pair

Tue, 05 Apr 2022 23:48:34 GMT

One partridge in a pear tree is a lonesome sight to see,
and though the bird can fly away he sits and stares at me.
He watches as I sing about the twelve fine days to come
but as the song continues, the sadder he becomes.

He twists his head from side to side, blinking small black eyes.
Then he chirps, ‘Don’t sing that song. Please don’t make me cry!’
He ruffles bright red feathers from his head down to his toes,
pruning each one carefully, tweeting as he goes.

Once he’s done he stands up straight and sighs a mournful sigh.
His beak begins to quiver and a tear forms in his eye.
He starts to tell a tale that’s full of misery and woe,
of sorrow and of heartbreak, as he paces to and fro.

‘You’ve no idea how hard it is to see the doves and hens
all kissing and canoodling. It seems to never end!
Then there are the calling birds, the geese and all the swans!
They prance and swim and lay their eggs and proudly sing that song.

And do not get me started on the lords and maids and ladies
The pipers and the drummers wake up all the sleeping babies!’
I listen as he tells me of his wish for just one thing -
to find another partridge who will make his sad heart sing.

I ask him to come closer, wipe away his tear and say,
‘No need to be alone for look who flew in yesterday!’
He turns his head to where I point, his eyes full of surprise.
His little heart now bursts with hope and to her side he flies.

He hops a little closer, pecks her gently with his beak.
She fluffs her wings and then she lays her head upon his cheek.
Together with their heads entwined, the future’s bright and fair.
No longer lonely but instead a perfect partridge pair!

Words

Mon, 21 Mar 2022 01:36:34 GMT

In response to the Australian Children's Poetry picture prompt #4

WORDS
Words, words, words!
They’re in the air, they’re everywhere
In a book on a page,
on a sign on the stage.
Falling up, falling down,
in my head spinning ‘round.
My mind is full of wondrous things,
of lovely, weird imaginings.
As I walk the words flow through
and I write them in my notebook blue.
So many tales to tell and share
with dragons, frogs and cranky bears!
When story’s done there’s many more
because the world has words galore!