Poem of the Week 82

My Sari


Debjani Chatterjee



Saris hang on the washing line:

a rainbow in our neighbourhood.

This little orange one is mine,

it has a mango leaf design.

I wear it as a Rani would.

It wraps round me like sunshine,

It ripples silky down my spine,

and I stand tall and feel so good.



Poem of the Week 81

A Plate of Potatoes

Kaye Umansky



A plate of potatoes, a plate of potatoes,

There’s nothing as great

As a plate of potatoes!


Baked in foil, fried in oil,

There’s nothing as great

As a plate of potatoes!


Cooked in a curry, boiled in a hurry,

There’s nothing as great

As a plate of potatoes!


Stewed in a pot? Give me the lot!

There’s nothing as great

As a plate of potatoes!


Mashed with cheese? Mmm, yes please!

There’s nothing as great

As a plate of potatoes!


A plate of potatoes, a plate of potatoes,

There’s nothing as great

As a plate of potatoes!


Poem of the Week 80

A Change in the Year

William Wordsworth


It is the first mild day of March:

Each minute sweeter than before,

The redbreast sings from the tall larch

That stands beside our door.


There is a blessing in the air,

Which seems a sense of joy to yield

To the bare trees, and mountains bare;

And grass in the green field.

Poem of the Week 78

It’s Dark in Here

Shel Silverstein


I am writing these poems

From inside a lion,

And it’s rather dark in here.

So please excuse the handwriting

Which may not be too clear.

But this afternoon by the lion’s cage

I’m afraid I got too near.

And I’m writing these lines

From inside a lion.

And it’s rather dark in here.


Poem of the Week 77

Jim – Who ran away from his Nurse and

was eaten by a Lion

Hilaire Belloc


There was a Boy whose name was Jim;

His Friends were very good to him.

They gave him Tea, and Cakes, and Jam,

And slices of delicious Ham,

And Chocolate with pink inside

And little Tricycles to ride,

And read him Stories through and through,

And even took him to the Zoo–

But there it was the dreadful Fate

Befell him, which I now relate.


You know–or at least you ought to know,

For I have often told you so–

That Children never are allowed

To leave their Nurses in a Crowd;

Now this was Jim’s especial Foible,

He ran away when he was able,

And on this inauspicious day

He slipped his hand and ran away!


He hadn’t gone a yard when–Bang!

With open Jaws, a lion sprang,

And hungrily began to eat

The Boy: beginning at his feet.

Now, just imagine how it feels

When first your toes and then your heels,

And then by gradual degrees,

Your shins and ankles, calves and knees,

Are slowly eaten, bit by bit.

No wonder Jim detested it!

No wonder that he shouted “Hi!”


The Honest Keeper heard his cry,

Though very fat he almost ran

To help the little gentleman.

“Ponto!” he ordered as he came

(For Ponto was the Lion’s name),

“Ponto!” he cried, with angry Frown,

“Let go, Sir! Down, Sir! Put it down!”

The Lion made a sudden stop,

He let the Dainty Morsel drop,

And slunk reluctant to his Cage,

Snarling with Disappointed Rage.

But when he bent him over Jim,

The Honest Keeper’s Eyes were dim.

The Lion having reached his Head,

The Miserable Boy was dead!


When Nurse informed his Parents, they

Were more Concerned than I can say:–

His Mother, as She dried her eyes, Said,

“Well–it gives me no surprise,

He would not do as he was told!”

His Father, who was self-controlled,

Bade all the children round attend

To James’s miserable end,

And always keep a-hold of Nurse

For fear of finding something worse.


Poem of the Week 76

A Slash of Blue

Emily Dickinson


A slash of Blue –

A sweep of Grey –

Some scarlet patches on the way,

Compose an Evening Sky –

A little purple – slipped between

Some Ruby Trousers hurried on –

A Wave of Gold –

A Bank of Day –

This just makes out the Morning Sky.


Poem of the Week 74

The Uncertainty of the Poet


Wendy Cope



I am a poet.

I am very fond of bananas.


I am bananas.

I am very fond of a poet.


I am a poet of bananas.

I am very fond,


A fond poet of ‘I am, I am’ –

Very bananas,


Fond of ‘Am I bananas,

Am I?’ – a very poet.


Bananas of a poet!

Am I fond? Am I very?


Poet bananas! I am.

I am fond of a ‘very’.


I am of very fond bananas.

Am I a poet?