Childrens Personalised Books » Lizzie Stories

Do the trees really talk?

saronti — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 17:33:52 +0000

Do the trees really talk, does the wind really whistle
and how can donkeys eat dry, spiky thistles.

If it’s really the truth, do pigs fly by
how long’s your nose , if you tell a tall lie.

Is one magpie for sorrow, are two for joy
do sweet things make a girl, and bad things a boy.

If you wait for a bus for a very long time
they arrive altogether in a long line.

But across the road going the other way
there’s bus after bus for the whole of the day.

How is it a worm can be cut down the middle,
and two seconds later both halves start to wriggle.

How does a chicken without it’s head
run round for a while before it drops dead.

How can a chameleon change from green,
to brown to white so it can’t be seen.

How is it that leaves turn four shades of brown
before they let go, and fall straight to the ground.

There’s good weather , bad weather, animals and birds
the stories and tales of old I’ve heard.

I wonder as I walk along down my street
and take in the wonderful things I meet.

Wether it’s winter, Autum, , Summer or Spring.
Life is truly a wonderful thing

Some say , life is hard, some say life’s a gas
some live in the lane that goes very fast.

But, me I’m blessed with the life I lead
I’m not missing a bit of it, no indeed!

by Lizzie

The Pimple

saronti — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 17:23:19 +0000

If the pimple on your nose,
grows,
and grows.
Joins up with the others, until it covers,
the whole of your face
makes you feel out of place
with the group your in
different looking skin.
So you go to find someone of your kind,
who won’t point and stare,
until you can’t bear
to venture outside
where there’s nowhere to hide.
Till you’re forced to use cover
as you search for another
of whatever you are,
you travel afar.
Away from it all,
makes you feel very small
and afraid of the thought,
that you could get caught
by someone who’ll discover,
that there is no other
who looks like you.
You’ll be put in a zoo
in a small open box
all covered in locks
so you can’t get away
from the people who pay
to look at the face
that is so out of place.
From the rest of the world
and the teenage girls,
who look in the mirror
and shake and quiver
at the pimple on their nose
as it grows and grows…..

by Lizzie

Wallaby’s a Winner

saronti — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 17:21:41 +0000

Wallaby’s a Winner

It was a hustling, bustling day at Froggly Dean Zoo.
Mr Baker, the Zookeeper had been busy all morning getting the Zoo ready for the Annual Sports Day.
Over the months, whatever the weather, the animals had been training very hard, sprinting,
throwing,
jumping,
and swinging.

Wallaby was helping Mr Baker lay out the winners medals. As he polished the bright shiny gold surface he dreamed that he would be a winner, wearing the medal proudly around his neck. But Wallaby hadn’t even entered any events.
Wallaby wasn’t strong, he couldn’t swim and he couldn’t jump very high. He just wasn’t good at sports.
Mr Baker blew his whistle for the start of the first race, the 100 meter dash. Cheetah stormed home to take the first place.
Wallaby stayed behind to cheer on Tortoise, who came in last,(think he picked the wrong race). Wallaby rolled up the finish line neatly for the next race.
In the Aerial arobatics, Swallow dipped and looped the loop with perfection to score a perfect ten.
When Hawk got so dizzy, loop the looping he crash landed, Wallaby carefully bandaged his beak.
Wallaby moved the pole up,
and up,
and up, for Giraffe to walkover in the high jump.
Wallaby refereed his Kangaroo cousins in the boxing match,
clapped as Penguin out swam shark in the swimming race
and took pictures in the Great Tug of War, (taking great care not to get too close!).
In between events, Wallaby was busy filling up the water troughs,
pinning on numbers
and announcing the events through the loudspeaker.
Finally it was the last event. The Round the Zoo relay race.
Wallaby handed the batons to the birds, to fly the first lap.
Mr Baker fired the gun, and with a loud BANG the birds took off at top speed.
Goose passed the baton to Hare first, closely followed by Swallow to Giraffe.
Hyena snapped his baton in half, and hawk, who again mis-timed his landing , landed on Zebra’s back still holding his baton.
Wallaby held on tightly to the finish line as Rhino and Ostrich came charging forwards. Ostrich stuck out her long neck, grabbed the line in her beak, the winner.
At the medal presentation, Wallaby hip, hip, hoorayed the winners louder than anyone else.
After all the medals were given out Mr Baker brought out a huge golden trophy. The last and most important prize goes to someone who has worked hard all day at every event and made today such a special day.
Animals of the Zoo, please give a great big Froggly Dean cheer for ‘Wallaby’, our Sportsman of the Year.
That night before Wallaby went to sleep,he gave his gleaming trophy one last polish where it read, ‘Sportsman of the Year’.

by Lizzie

Windell Swaines

saronti — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 17:18:15 +0000

Windell Swaines, two unfortunate names,
tricky spelling, constantly telling
people who make the same mistakes.
It’s WINDELL SWAINES, not Sindell Waines,
Windmill Sways or Window Staines.
Deedpoll change, not hard to arrange
Be Bob, Ted or Pat
at the drop of a hat.
So many names, so hard to pick
from Simon, Peter Tom or Mick
Someone suggests their own name, Trevor,
with trembling hands, it’s now or never.
As pen hits paper, an inner voice cries,
“With Bob, or Ted there’s no surprise.
Do you want to be normal, the same as the pack
like Christopher, Samuel , Norman and Jack.
It’s good to be different , have peculiar names,
sorry I’m sticking with Windell Swaines.

by Lizzie