The Parish Church of St George the Martyr, Waterlooville

Continuing our series of extracts from past editions of St George’s Book of Poems…..


Easter Edition 2014

St George’s Book of Poems

A Poem Wot I Wrote

A poem wot I wrote

That’s what dear Jane did say,

To help her fill her book

That you can read by candle.


I wish I had a brain

To think of things to write

But I prefer to sleep

There goes another day.


A subject I can’t choose

I’ll throw it in the bin

This poem’s going no-where

It’s very hard tonight.


Although I try and try

It’s going down the pan

I’ll never get it right

I wish that I could win.


I would have written more

But now I have no time,

Oh to think of words

To make the last line scan.


Perhaps you’ll think I’m thick

But to get a better handle.

Move every last word up

Then the light will hit the rhyme.

Colin Monk

Children’s Ward, St Mary’s Hospital

Six o’clock is striking clear.

“Come on, wakey, wakey dear!”

Says the nurse, all stiff and starched;

Nose aloof and eyebrows arched.

“Temperatures just must be taken.”

Drowsily the children waken.

Yawning mouths and stretching arms

Greet the nurse with all her charms.

Here comes the breakfast, “Good for you

Come on children, eat it do!”

Then it’s bath time. “All quite clean?
Toys out, now that doctor’s been.”
Lunch arrives, gravy and meat,

Vegetables and then the sweet.

Tidy up, re-make the beds,

Brush the unkempt tousled heads.

For it’s visiting time again.

Here comes Mum and sister Jane.

“Bye bye dear! Don’t cry! Be good!

Act the way you know you should.”

Time to play ’til tea appears.

“Drink your milk and eat up dears.”

Medicine goes down with ease;

“Wash and brush up if you please!”

Off to sleep. Dream cares away

In readiness for a brand new day,

When events will be once more

Exactly as they were before!

Wendy Pearce

Grandma

“Get up!”, “Get dressed!”, “Eat your breakfast!”

That’s my mum.

“Sit up!”, “Be quiet!”, “Get on with your work!”

That’s my teacher.

But my Gran is different.

She says;

“Please will you do this.”

“Would you like to sit here?”

But then, my Gran is old fashioned.


James Mancz (aged 9)