Poetry

The Lullaby Monster

Niamh Garvey4 Comments

(Since it’s Halloween… a poem for the day that’s in it)

I’ve heard the gnashing of his teeth,
The midnight scraping of his feet.
The monster hiding beneath my bed,
Has eyes of fire and claws of lead,

I know he’ll crawl out from the deep
The minute that I go to sleep.
I think he feasts on young boy’s toes,
His all time favourite: children’s nose.

Tonight I will not close my eyes,
That monster’s in for a big surprise.
Tonight I promise I’ll be brave,
I’ll catch that monster in his cave!

All day long I’ve been prepared,
Determined that I won’t be scared.
I stole Dad’s tools out of the shed,
They’re hidden deep down in my bed.

I wait until the dark of night,
Before I grab my dad’s flash-light.
I pull my backpack from my bed,
And put my helmet on my head.

Wrap my bandana around my nose,
Three pairs of socks to protect my toes.
I’ve got my marbles, elastic bands,
My hockey stick gripped in my hands.

I lower my body to the ground,
Careful not to make a sound.
Now on my knees, I think I’m shaking
He’ll hear the noise my heart is making!

I roll a marble towards the dark,
Wait for fire, a flame, a spark.
But not a sound comes out to greets me,
No monster coming out to meet me.

I am brave, I am a knight!
I flick on my dad’s best flash-light,
All I see is dust and toys,
Nothing even makes a noise.

“Come out!” I cry, “Come out and see
If you can fight your way past me!”
Then suddenly there is a rumble
A deep and throaty sort of grumble.

His feet are scraping on the floor,
I nearly run right for the door.
But I’m too late now to run free,
The monster’s right in front of me!

Slime is hanging from his chin
His belly’s fat, his legs are thin.
He’s not the size of a great hog,
More like a yappy little dog.

His eyes are sad, he starts to cry
“I guess I’ll have to say goodbye.
Beneath your bed has been so great
But I see now you’re full of hate.

Hate for monsters far and wide,
No one is ever on our side.
I thought because you are so brave,
You’d let me stay here in my cave.

Outside the world is awfully scary
I’ve got no friends, no godmother fairy.
Monsters live such lonely lives.
Look, I’ve broken out in hives!”

My jaw drops, my throat goes dry,
I never meant to make him cry!
What an emotional up-heavel,
I just presumed that he was evil!

“But aren’t you planning soon to eat me?
Bite off my toes and badly treat me?
Use my bones for your toothpick,
The worry has nearly made me sick!”

Then suddenly a sweetly sound,
Fills my bedroom all around.
To whom does this sweet tune belong?
Could it be the monster’s song?

“Forgive my laughter, can’t you see?
You needn’t be afraid of me.
I’m the gentlest of them all,
I’m not just friendly, not just small.

I’ve never once made someone cry,
The name I’m called is “Lullaby”
My job was helping children sleep,
Fill their heads with counting sheep.

My songs are famous, don’t you know?
I’ve helped so many children grow,
A good nights sleep is truly vital,
But now I’m old I’ve lost my title.

I need a place I can retire,
A home is all that I desire.
Somewhere dark so I can be,
Away from work, retired and free.

I didn’t mean to make such noise
I’ve lost my touch, my stealthy poise.
And if I stay, please rest assured,
Your sleepless nights- as good as cured!

Every word sounds like a harp,
His eyes seem kind, his teeth less sharp.
I find myself filled up with trust.
“Of course you’ll stay, in fact, you must!”

I remove my socks, the helmet too,
So glad my fears had been untrue.
Lay down my head and close my eyes
“Good night then, Maker of lullabies.”

He disappears beneath my bed,
But as his song fills up my head.
I suddenly think, clenching my feet,
If not me, what does he eat?!

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The Lonely Star: Children’s Poem

Niamh Garvey1 Comment

A lonely star was watching high

Above a cloud one night.

He saw the people of the world

Who loved with all their might.

How sweet it seemed to have a friend,

A family full of laughter.

Rather than a single star

Alone for forever after.

I will go to earth, he thought,

I’m sure that I know how.

I’ll find myself the dearest friend

I’ll travel there right now!

He opened up his fiery arms,

And threw away some light.

Suddenly he started falling,

A shooting star so bright.

As he fell he shed his flames,

His sparkle getting lost.

Through the wind and rain he rushed,

Through the winter frost.

He landed with a thump at last

Into an Irish garden.

He left a scorch mark on the ground

And begged the grass’s pardon.

He heard a clatter and a bang

And looked up first in fright.

But when he saw a window open

His fear turned to delight.

For peeping through the flapping curtains,

The star saw there a boy.

His eyes were wide, his mouth was open.

A friend! Star thought, What joy!

“I’m looking for a friend,” he called.

“I’ve travelled very far.

I’ve fallen from the depth of space,

You see, I am a star.”

“A star?” The boy cried out so loud,

“A burning ball of fire?

How can I come and play with you?

I’d end up in a pyre!

I wish that we could be best friends,

I’d love to hold your hand.

Can’t you see? It cannot be,

You’d burn right through this land.”

The star looked then around the garden

And saw the trees and flowers,

Were wilting from his yellow heat,

Decaying from his powers!

“This heat and terror that I bear

I truly did not know.

I never meant to cause such harm,

Please forgive me so!”

“I forgive you for I see,

How lonely is your heart.

But you must travel back to space

And make a fresh new start.

You’ll find a friend amongst the stars,

Above this atmosphere.

A companion for the darkest nights,

Whom you can hold so dear.

If you join a constellation

You’ll never be alone.

An extra handle on the plough,

Canis needs a bone!

You’ve so much choice up there in space,

So many stars to choose.

And why not ask the sun and moon?

You’ve got nothing to lose!”

The star’s sweet heart felt light and free

A smile filled up his face.

The excitement was too much to bear

And he shot back up to space.

The Honey Bee: A Poem

Niamh Garvey2 Comments

How nice to be a honey bee,

Flying the world fast and free.

Buzzing high through trees and towers,

Drinking delights from summer flowers.

 

But things aren’t always as they seem,

His life not just a happy dream.

His orders come from high above,

Made to work and not to love.

For in the hive, there lies unseen,

His Mistress there, the honey Queen.

Little Tommy’s Day: A Poem for Toddlers.

Niamh Garvey2 Comments

Little Tommy wakes up,

It’s dark all around.

Listens very carefully,

Doesn’t hear a sound.

He bangs on the cot-sides,

Makes lots of noise.

Cries very loudly for

His mummy or some toys.

The door opens slowly,

Mummy picks him up,

All his banging and his tears

Have given him hic-cups.

 

Wrapped up in his blanket

Right down to his toesies.

Watching from his buggy,

And feeling very cosy.

Mummy is behind him,

They’re going to the park.

A nice bit of fresh air,

Now it’s no longer dark.

The pond is full of white swans,

Flapping their big wings,

When they see the breadcrumbs

That Mummy always brings.

A spin around the playground

Beneath the cloudy sky.

Whizzing down the steep slide,

And swinging way up high.

 

Tommy’s sitting bored now,

Stuck in his high-chair.

Peas shoved high up in his nose

Fish-fingers in his hair.

In walks his smiling Daddy,

In walks Mummy.

Daddy walks up to his chair,

And tickles Tommy’s tummy.

Mummy shakes her finger,

“Food is not a toy!

Eat it up, every bite.

There’s a good boy”.

 

The bath is full of bubbles,

To wash away the muck.

He builds a bubble castle,

Then breaks it with a duck.

Wrapped up in a fluffy towel,

he can’t stop wriggling.

The air from the blow-dryer

Has him really giggling.

 

He drinks his bedtime bottle,

Warm on Daddy’s lap.

A story of a little bear.

Who won’t go for his nap.

Tommy’s lying in his cot,

Dad turns off the light.

A little kiss on Tommy’s cheek,

“I love you. Night Night.”

A Strand of Wind : A Poem

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A Strand of Wind

 

If I could see a strand of wind,

I’d watch where it would land.

I’d creep up slowly and then pounce

And clasp it in my hand.

 

I’d carefully sneak it home that day

And bind it around my finger.

A wedding band for only me,

A private place to linger.

 

Every night I’d take the strand

And tell it all my stories.

My secrets, gossip and my dreams

My woes and all my glories.

 

Then on the nights I’d lay awake,

Unable to close my eyes.

I’d pick each thought out of my mind

And flick away the cries.

 

I’d unwrap that little strand of wind

And tie each thought so tight.

Then twist it back around my finger

Holding me all night.

 

When the strand would get too heavy

And no longer could I wear it.

I’d throw that strand into the air,

And then the wind would bear it.

 

That little strand would float away,

My secrets hidden deep.

My mind would feel so light and free

No obstacles to sleep.

 

If someday I found I missed it,

Returned to my wakeful bed.

I’d reach up into night sky

And catch a star instead.

 

Early Mornings: A Poem for adults.

Niamh Garvey1 Comment

Early Mornings

The whimpers slowly turn to moans,

And soon to full blown cries.

I throw the blankets off my body

And force open my eyes.

I think back to the night before,

That foolish glass of wine.

It caused this pain inside my head,

A good idea at the time.

I stumble slowly down the hall,

And push open the door.

Something painful under foot,

Some toy left on the floor.

I lift my child into my arms,

Her body shines with glee.

This daily greeting of pure joy,

You’re back, she grins, For me!

I forgot to put my slippers on,

Not even a pair of a socks.

I change my daughters leaky nappy

As my feet turn to icy rocks.

Clean and dry, I hug her close,

And sit down on the rocking chair.

She drinks and gulps her milky breakfast

Quietly twisting strands of hair.

Full, she wriggles off my lap,

Sliding swiftly down my legs.

Her toes touch the cold wood floor.

She turns back to me and begs,

Grunts and groans, her arms held high

Up, she gestures, Take me back!

I distract her with a doll, a rattle,

Her beloved jumping Jack.

A minutes peace to sit back into

the cushions of this soothing chair.

A minute to myself to wake,

And rid my eyes of morning glare.

The toys soon will lose their wonder.

I force myself to stand.

I pull open the spotty curtains

And look out at the waking land.

The sun is shining gently in,

Filling the room with light.

She toddles to my cold bare legs,

Grabs them with all her tiny might.

She points to the door, an order

Telling me where to go.

She giggles when we’re in the hall

Faster, she grunts, Why so slow?

We reach the door of my own haven

My bedroom light has just turned on.

My husband’s hidden beneath the duvet.

Then “Boo!”, jumps out, the laugh is on.

Hysterical giggles fill her belly,

She jumps into his waiting arms.

My heart soars, my head has cleared,

Impossible to resist her charms.

I flop beside them on the bed,

The three of us a piling muddle.

This simple pleasure in my life,

The weekend morning cuddle.