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Abigail Saunders Poem
Today seemed so long,
Now a day is almost gone,
But its about to get so much better yet
As I whatch the beautiful sun set.
Sunrise, Sunset,
How much better can it get?
Up and down all day long,
Now it's here, now it's gone
I love the darling sunrise,
Into it birds fly.
I love it's colour's, purple, pink,
It makes it much easier to think
The sunrise marks a brand new day,
How much more can I say?
All those things that I haven't done,
I can do at the rise of a sun.
Sun burning in the sky, just a ball of gas.
Just a burnng, spluttering, churning, great, big mass.
Somehow it makes one feel calm,
Like a very meaningful Psalm.
I do like sunset,
I whatched as the sun and horizon met.
Then slowly,slowly still,
They'll leave for now untill,
The next day that will come yet!
I do like sunrise although,
I like sunset also!
I cannot decide which is better,
A sunriser or a sunsetter!
S-U-N-S-E-T,
I just cannot see,
S-U-N-R-I-S-E
What the difference can be!
I will say, I like them both,
This I swear, this I oath.
There really is nothing better,
Than a sunriser and a sunsetter
Copyright © Abigail Saunders | Year Posted 2012
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Abigail Saunders Poem
Deep in the forest
Where no one ever goes,
You can hear the singing of fairies,
And their twinkling little toes!
If you are brave and bold,
And not afraid of night,
You may find this wonderful land,
And this wonderful sight!
Not many people know this,
For I am only telling you
Not one thing is made up
Every word of my story is true!
I wish I could see the fairies
And their sparkling eyes,
Sleeping on the roses,
Every fairy lies.
Waiting for the morning,
Paitently in their sleep.
Dreaming of tomorrow
In their pillows, deep.
Copyright © Abigail Saunders | Year Posted 2012
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Abigail Saunders Poem
This poem makes me mad,
This poem makes me livid,
There's nothing that can round that word off so now I'm madder.
I bet you diddn't even now that word existed,
OH NO! Here I go again
Now I'm the maddest!
Writing mad peoms makes me happy,
Which is quite sad,
Because now that I'm finished,
I'M GETTING REALLY MAD!
Copyright © Abigail Saunders | Year Posted 2012
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Details |
Abigail Saunders Poem
This poem makes me mad,
This poem makes me livid,
There's nothing that can round that word off so now I'm madder.
I bet you diddn't even now that word existed,
OH NO! Here I go again
Now I'm the maddest!
Writing mad peoms makes me happy,
Which is quite sad,
Because now that I'm finished,
I'M GETTING REALLY MAD!
Copyright © Abigail Saunders | Year Posted 2012
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Details |
Abigail Saunders Poem
I'm writing this poem about,
Nothing in particular.
It might be so, I don't quite know
If this matter can be quite the tickler.
As you read,
What I write,
Are you sitting are you standing,
Or are you leaning to the right?
Today I don't feel,
Any kind of sadness.
EEK! I'm talking to myself,
That's the first sign of madness.
I now that I'm sarcastic,
But I'm not very witty.
If you think you're so smart,
Sing a funny ditty!
HA!
I bet you diddn't sing at all.
I don't care,
If you're big or small.
Now whose smarter,
May I ask,
As I give you,
Another task!
Write a poem,
Even better,
And if you do,
Send me a letter!
I told you at the very start,
This poem may not be a tickler,
But one thing is quite for sure,
That it's about nothing in particular.
Copyright © Abigail Saunders | Year Posted 2012
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