Best Bookworm Poems
Today is the first day of school
the summer too short at the pool
school days are long
this is so wrong
I think going to school isn’t cool
My father insists that I go
though I argued loud with a No
I squawk and squirm
I’m no bookworm
sure I know all there is to know
Dad threatened to kick me out
no matter my perfect pout
I’m no fool
went to school
now the classics I can spout
At university I excelled
never an instance was I expelled
got the knowledge
finished college
at graduation my Dad’s heart swelled
There was a pretty little girl,
who loved to read all the time!
books here, books there,
books anywhere, books everywhere -
on the bed, under the shade,
on the swing, birds sing.
in the tree, read with glee!
on the slide, what a delight!
at dawn, in the morn,
at dusk, really fast.
in the dark, in the light,
Oh my! sunny bright!
at last ....
got a huge pair of glasses!
mom and dad say -
doesn't she look prettier?
our bookworm is the best!
FIRST PLACE
March 19, 2021
Nursery Rhyme 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor : Eve Roper
I'm the ultimate
bookworm
my mother, God Bless her,
taught me the joy
of reading
of writing
of using thought
for something
a little more meaningful
than cars, popularity
money or fame
in books
your mind can travel
there are no barriers
for you
each book adds
another flavor
to your being
another star
to your mind's sky
they are things
of beauty
because you share them
the reader and the author
each merged together
somehow their minds
make more than two
so I have spent
a king's ransom
in the years when
I could afford
to accumulate
these golden treasures
far more rich
than gold or silver
I made the master bedroom
of my current home
a library quite extensive
where my mind can roam
I have so many books
I could not fit them all
but part with one?
never....
for any reason under the sun
I have diaries from the civil war
faded slightly
but still a wonderous mirror
into a time and life
never to return
many other treasures
but books among my best
I could never be
a librarian
little work would
I get done
my eyes would be stuck
inside my charges
and no one could
withdraw a one.
When I was young, I took ballet
or in the sun with friends I'd play.
but once in school I learned to read,
on stories I began to feed,
especially when days were grey!
Upon the bed or couch I lay
for hours, and nobody could sway
me from it! It became my need
when I was young.
Through many books I wormed my way.
In fiction's world I longed to stay.
Mom had read me tales, so she'd
been planting in my mind that seed
by reading to me everyday
when I was young.
March 14, 2019
XXXX
A bookworm me..believe myself to be artistic, reflective, compassionate, spiritual.
Sister of Tamal, an artist and a poet...inspired by the talents of my brother.
Love to vision three goals accepted by the world - women empowerment, justice for all, equal opportunities for children.
I feel grateful, blissful, content with what I am born with.
I do fear direct confrontation, dealing with rudeness and unfairness, afraid of losing my musical voice.
I would like to enjoy flowers dancing in the wind, emerald waves lapping on the sandy beach, waterfalls cascading on coral rocks.
A proud resident of multi-cultural Mississauga, a vibrant city in Ontario.
My last name - Ray - easy to spell and pronounce.
Delightful voices of my children I miss,
Chattering, giggling around me - crave for that bliss
At evening dinner, feel sad to see empty chairs,
Except when joyful celebrations are in the air!
Words Bound Together
Thoughts Formed Between Lines
Knowledge To Absorb
Learns The Bookworm
Wishes Expressed By Letters
Ideas For All To Share
Building Blocks For Peace
Believes The Bookworm
Fact or Fiction Penned
Expressions of Desire
Mystery Exposed, Secrets Veiled
Hunted By The Bookworm
Begins with Rupert Bear,
Until that was found too square;
The Just William came on the scene,
But soon became a childish has-been.
Youth-filled reading,a melanged mix,
Biggles & squadron,sixty-six;
The hero,Algy & Ginger against the hun,
Adventures that made him number one.
Onto Enid's Famous Five,
Long before PC, could deprive;
Julian,Anne George & Rick
In books,fast moving and slick.
Growing into mid-teens,
And weekly,Hollywood magazines;
Adolescence & steamy Jansen,
As puberty surfaced,so sudden.
The adult library then opened wide,
Answering questions,none could hide;
So many books read,good,poor & rotten,
MInd-blowing but ,so cosmopolitan.
Blue skies changed to scarlet
Sunset fell beneath the starlet
A pasture of stars, shimmering
Following the moon’s glimmering
Beautiful night, whispering light
Kissing with laughter so bright
It was heaven’s stillness, smiling
Breathing joy and hope, beguiling
As the caterpillar wandered, alone
Oh, my, how his belly did groan
He had eaten all the pretty flowers
Before the skies filled with showers
Soon turning such a vibrant green
Looking so much like a string bean
I decided he was a dancing worm
Because he would squiggle and squirm
As insects go, he was just delightful
Though coming from bloodlines so frightful
He’s the most intelligent worm I know
A book in hand, his huge brain all aglow
Nursery Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
February 24, 2023
She sat in a corner and read and read,
continued to read as she lay in bed;
I guess she is clever - her brain won't rust
(although she's surrounded by piles of dust!)
just some silliness written 26th December for Sara's contest (about the reading option)
FOOTLE
well read
learned
BROKEN MONOKU
at ease on my bookshelf-
yesteryear's leisured hours
a 'broken monoku' is my variation upon the one line monoku form,
I am a little Bookworm
I live inside a book
I wriggle
I writhe
I make humans beings squirm
For when they open up my book
They don’t expect to see a worm
How silly
these homosapiens
Do they not realize
My name is Billy Bookworm
and in a book I will reside
So next time you begin to read
and open up your book
Do not scream
Do not shout
What is all that noise about
Just gently turn each page to see
The sweetest bookworm
and that is me...
Written 1st April 2019
Contest: The Bookworm
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
10th in Premier Contest
Contest: YOUR CHOICE LIGHT VERSE (wit,humour,wordplay,puns)
Sponsor: Brian Strand
HONORABLE MENTION
Blissful
Introvert, Wanderer, Daydreamer, Caregiver
Daughter of Carolyn, Sister of Susan, Mr. Peabody's Mom
Lover of the sound of rain, comfy slippers, and my husband's smile
Who feels imperfect, inquisitive, and impulsive
Who fears icy roads, large bugs, and dentists
Who would like to see compassion, common sense, and gratitude
Resident of the verdant Northwest
Bookworm
1/27/19
For Writing Challenge 2, Bio Form
Sponsor: Dear Heart
It was a dark and stormy night, or so the story goes
Another of those wondrous tales to keep us on our toes
Like looking glass and wonderland, grim witches and their spells
Peter Pan and his lost boys, the lovely Tinkerbell
The days I’ve spent lost to the world, so snug inside a book
The villains who are best of all, Long John and Captain Hook
I’ve sailed away to desert isles and walked the frozen wastes
Swum deep beneath the ocean waves; the Kraken I have faced
Sherlock Holmes to Frankenstein have held me in their thrall
But can I name just one that I have loved the best of all?
On different days I need to find a different place to be
Sitting on my daily train: oh, commuter misery
Today it’s off to Lilliput in the company of Swift
Tomorrow could be opium dens, by Sherlock left adrift
Or possibly to Mordor, to fight those pesky orcs
Or up north to Skallagrigg, to fly among the hawks
If I had a pound or two for every place I’d been
I’d be a millionaire by now, but I really must come clean
The written word to me is worth much more than any cash
A nice new book is just the thing, I’ll add it to my stash
The gadgets that are used today are all right in their place
It’s print and ink in solid form that put a smile upon my face
Long nosed earthy bookworm knows 'bout Angler Saxon
Shell yours truly share hook line
and sinker, regarding how I nearly
fell prey to off fish shill
doom for umpteenth time?
Ya haint got no choice... to late,
cuz eyes already clicked bait,
though don't worry be happy fate
will find thee enjoying poetic tête-à-tête
rhyming Hors d'oeuvres
ain't no Shakespearean literary great
expert, nonetheless might interest
with special Labor Day rate
absolute zero charge courtesy
to mollycoddle principally
as figurative paypal pit tate
ting gently massaging your pate
anyway don't get doggies in a dimple
yawping personal ambition
of this doggone puppy not to create
literary accomplishment appraised great
merely to fritter away time possibly
unexpectedly, unknowingly,
unwittingly... titillate.
Herewith follows "FAKE" off fish hill
anecdote without wallowing
in self pity and deemed gill
tee of slimy overkill,
whereby fisherman seeks likes of me,
who favors lollygagging
within Brooklyn rill
frequented by Jack and Jill
ice cream in vain
when riled, poked, nabbed...
courtesy angler England Bill
unaware his carping cavil
never fooling this ever will
fill squiggly... d'ya phylum me?
As proud Annelida where trawler
(accompanied with boating mate)
blithely tosses yours truly into catcher's
reel tin can - grim fate
ah, but survival skills include
ability to regenerate
in thee event mine body electric rotate
headed, chopped, perforated, segmented...
evening, increasing, licking... odds
laughing to myself, which doth not abate,
cuz I outsmarted, thus aye state
with modesty if perchance just a sliver
lopped off, destiny cannot eliminate
opportunity not to agitate,
but rather duplicate, replicate
unisexual worman hood
without need to feign
being irate, thus
pretend to equivocate.
No print on hand-held screens can draw her in...
for only hard-bound, covered books are gems;
held close with love, absorbing through her eyes,
those magic words that fill her heart and mind.
At just months old, she trembled at their sight...
small story books grasped firmly in her hands.
Her mom would read the words, and one by one
she savored them like candy-coated treats.
A 'bookworm' during school years, she oft hid
an open one to read, spread on her lap...
when caught, admonished to put it away;
although, with honors, she would graduate.
Fast forward now, with valued books, she works
as high school English teacher, where she spent
four years herself with great books, growing up,
and now promotes the love for them in teens.
Her town's historical society
embraced her research aptitudes and flair
to read, compile, their books of history.
Dear granddaughter...we are so proud of you.
Sandra M. Haight