It’s Raining Outside

It’s raining outside,
someone has been singing again,
A chance to clear the air,
a time for something new.

It’s raining outside,
still a wonderful view,
I’m hoping for a rainbow,
with the crock of gold at the end.

It’s raining outside,
People running for cover,
why do they bother?
It’s only rain.

Summer is Coming

The birds are singing,
summer is coming,
warmer weather is here,
happy smiling faces everywhere.

Little Princess

Hush now my little princess,
rest your weary head,
dream a pleasant dream.

Dream of far away lands,
with magical creatures
and lots of wishes.

For tomorrow is another day,
for lots of joy and play,
Every day is a great day.

The Gambler

Another roll of the dice,
veins as cold as ice,
The house always wins,
throw your money in the bin.

Okay going to stop prefixing Wizzard’s Poetry to the front of the entries, just check out the poetry category.

Full of Life

Banging a drum,
never hum drum,
blowing your own trumpet
eating a crumpet.

Enjoying life to the max,
playing the sax,
never so relaxed.

World Gone Mad

Watching television,
disturbing vision,
children crying,
fists flying,
reality warped,
utopia beckons.

The title has no bearing on the poem, I write as thoughts come into my head.

Mixing and Fixing

Musing amusing and confusing,
Abusing time and fuming,
Why all the glooming?

Blooming and tuning,
rhyming and timing,
Conflicting and contradicting,
Why am I so constricting?

Spring and Winter

It’s grey and cloudy outside,
forcing me to stay inside,
With my happy thoughts.

As I rock from side to side
on my rocking chair made of hide,
in time with the relentless tide.

Tide and time waits for no man,
I’d rather be outside building a snowman,
Mixed up seasons by the score,
life can be such a bore.

I seem to be in a poetry writing mood at the moment. In true Blue Peter style here’s one I made earlier.

Witless

In the deepest darkest pit,
lie the people who lack wit,
halfwits, fullwits take your pick,
Poke them with a big sharp stick.

Here you go, my first ever poem, knocked up a few minutes ago:

Darkest Thoughts

I have dark deep thoughts running through my head,
many years ago I thought were put to bed.

My wildest fantasy is anothers nightmare,
a cross I no longer have to bear,
now I have a blog to share.