How stars got so high

Guy Fawkes began it on November 5

In 1600 when he was alive

But he wasn’t clever and he did fail

He  was arrested and put in jail

Bangers rockets jumping jack flash

You can buy them all if you’ve got the cash

Get your friends together and arrange a do

Even Mums and Dad are allowed too

Wait until the stars come out

You have a target then

Launch a rocket when I say when

Well’ pin on a silver star  drawn with a pen

When it hits black sky it shines

But it all moves around in summer and fall

It guides ships and shepherds with its light

Shine on stars and glisten bright

Contents of this little book of poetry for youngsters

Why do babies cry?
Why do Mummies sigh?
How can birds fly so safely?
Why is the sky blue?
Why are the stars so far away?
The happy Nightjay and her friend Tawny Owl

2013 all rights reserved Peter J Francis

What should I bequeth to you daughters of mine?

Only crispy crackly white Fenland  sparkly snow

Greeted you kindly  this morning as at nine years

You trot in black boots your  way to school

With joy and a stomach pleased with my breakfast Without tears

I saw you watched you round the bend sprightly stepped you

I am always vigilant watching and guarding and protecting for now

But as you grow they will not trouble you

These watchful guardian’s eyes

Mary  and you will spring onto the next bridge over the stream that is the waving unpredictable path of life under these English skies

Unlike I your path will not be my path or my wish for a pathway for you

Your own sculpted thought out and taught way forward it will be

Yours alone

We will see to that

If they let us be those who would dictate from school or from wherever come they

Nay

So what shall I promise you that remains my gift, is it just be  my fatherhood guidance

Or is there a trunk to rim the rim filled with gold and precious jewels a plenty

Oh I can see you wish to know it

I can tell you, for I have nought, little, plenty for now and for our daily lives fear not

The pot, this is enough for now what we have and hold

So fill thy pocket’s will jewels

And stars and all that gleams and shine and glistens brills in the snow soft reflected light’s rays this winter morn

Though you may need you will fulfil that need with your own hard efforts

In your working playing doing dreaming adulthood

My Father leaves me in Boston graveyard cold and wet, a black tomb stone and has lasting guidance

He taught me from his own efforts that I would succeed if I tried hard enough,

As he and his Father did before and protected us from War, to live as we do in Englands green and unpredictable land

For ‘tis here our sky, under which we stand or fall

We go forward as did the archers the long-bowmen of olde England

You will read of Agincourt and it will show you who we are who your forefathers were and who you will be

You will be the stripling who ties the bow chord tight and true and who pulls the arrows from the quiver

You shall see where to shoot to kill and put a death to quickly and painlessly he shall not speak more evil that man, and you shall tell your husband, the Nottinghamshire bowman where the target lays and urge him to shoot now and led it fly true and well

My children I know full well or not my children, your sisters nay not them

My slings and arrows of lives fortune good or bad have traveled and struck they are blunted now and of no use to the brave bowmen that flows

And this am contented I

Peter

 January 2013

........................................................................................................................................................
Why is the sky so blue?

Imagine come now if you will

A house with no curtains, and you sitting down for tea

The jam’s spread sticky round your face

And, before you ate you did not say grace

We have it, now we  have our privacy 

Not open blinds for all to see
In the days after Eve God faced a choice

I’ll paint the sky, said his soft voice

'Here Here' said Peter and then Paul

Shut the earthlings out no one at all

You should see me when I was my hair

Or play my lyre in Peter’s square

Transparency is not for me

I expect some privacy

One thing please I ask of you

It should be lappislazite blue

Right all done Peter  said Lord God

Last, just  before you go, could you turn the volume down on your new I-Pod

It’s my new lyre you know my Lord

Then let it be seen and not heard

God’s secretary then sent an email out

To all in heave, this is what it’s about

We want to paint the sky a hue

No, it’s not pink for girls , the boys have chosen a shade of blue

Work starts straight after Church

Sit straight 3b and do not lurch

Paint is messy but twas alright

The angels had spare cloaks of white

Priest brought brushes from the altar

Now paint, hmm..!!   blue, I know just the shop to go to

The superstore, yes B & Q

And so, it came to pass that Monday to Friday

Is just work

Not sitting down so 3b don’t shirk

The sea is blue because of God’s sky

And you will never see God with the human eye

When birds learned to fly to fly

Ascend descend, some rudder on to turn

Flying’s crammed with things to learn

Most birds have pedals to make them go

The sparrows’ small, quite big the crow

Now let me tell you how they know

When engaging quick and to shift gear to slow

To stop and wait, that’s what red might do mean

It’s cleat to move when you see green

It’s safer now but not back then

The day stork crashed with Henry Hen

The skies are huge but there’s skies galore

But Stork’s Traffic Act has become the law

Wise old stork planned long and hard

The very first lesson was in his yard

To test the theory he rang Jack Robin

To adjudicate the trusty Dobbin

Good Dobbin, horses are most fair

That even tits took to the air

‘Now order please’ said stork at noon

‘Already are we, we’re starting soon’

Red  ‘L’  plates’ll do just fine

Now all sign in, form an orderly line

When we finish you shall have

A license and a new Sat  Nav

                                                      

All hell broke loose as in they came

Owls from Italy, sparrows from Spain

The language to use, there was a gap

We’ll use English, that’s an end to that

Now listen up stork shrilled it loud

We don’t fly at night or through thick cloud

Air Space Control is in that shed

I hope he’s up not still in bed

Later that day the first bird passed

A Friday’s dusk there came the last

Now skies for us see no limits

Bon chance said Stork, now all jump in it

………………………………………………………………………………..

Terms you will need to learn

B.I.R.D.S           Birds in radar distress state

W.I.N.G.S     What is ‘navigation gate 6’

F.E.A.T.H.E.R      Firstly –  each Andover  tell HQ everything, Roger?

Little known birding fax

Speed  - Pigeons is guilty, top speed can be 40mph, 64 kilometres in Euros

Eyesight – Peter Pigeon II can spot a grain of wheat at 50 paces at dawn

Scatter Mary

Scatter scatter Mary , scatter scatter you

With your beads and pencils and your sequins and glue

Crimson felt tip on your dress and green painted shoes

Mum’s always shouting ‘look at you, look at you’

Scatter scatter Mary, foreign coins in my best guitar

Pins and needles in the carpet, ugh!what on earth’s in that jar?

Crumbs down the chair back, shredded tights to school

If Mrs D sees you’re gated, that’s not cool

Scatter in your satchel, pockets full of bits

Toothbrush in the kitchen sink, orange peel all in your kit

Worms in your pencil case! Jam on your nose!

Crips hidden in the bikky barrel! Where did you get those?

Scatter in the mornings when old Papuski feels slow

Scatter through breakfast and when it’s time to go

Well, dancing smiling butterfly just like that

Treat her with gentleness, don’t let her get fat

So I scatter muesli for breakfast and black eyed bean soup for tea

It good for you Mary, will you listen to me

 So scatter curlews in the green grass, and laughter ‘ere you go

And Mum’ll paste in a rainbow and see your eyes  all aglow 

They call me names Mum

Mummy they call me names

 They wouldn't let me play

 I'd run home, sit and cry almost everyday

 'Hey Jessica, you look like an alien

 With green skin you don't fit in this playpen'

 Well they pull my hair

 They took away my chair

 I keep it in and pretend that I didn't care

 'Hey Jessica, you're so funny

 You've got teeth just like Bugs bunny'


The spider and the fly

How do you do and what do you do here’’ said the spider to the fly

‘Well lots of nice things my dear’

I shall list them, by and by

‘Do you travel on holidays?’

‘Yes I have done with my boys

On warm blue seas and over white topped waves’

‘?’All creatures are made by God arent’ they asked the fly of the   spider. ‘If you think it is different then I’ll consider either’

So off they went the both of them in agreement.

Slow spider, buzzing fly

Two of nature’s gentle folk, don’t’ swat them, let them by