Nursery Rhyme, The Tree Comic Poem by Angela Lansbury number 494

 

 A nursery rhyme and repetitive song to teach English to children and non native speakers.

Angela Lansbury with lit tree at Brixton. Photo by Trevor Sharot.

The Tree

In the street, what did I see?

From the street I saw a tree

On day one I saw a tree

What did I see? I saw a tree

 

On that tree what did I see?

I saw a bird up in the tree

On that tree what did I see?

I saw two birds up in the tree

 

Up in the sky I saw a nest

What do I like most?

That was the best!

 I put a picture in the post.

On day two I saw two trees

What did I see, I saw two trees

Two singing birds

That’s what I heard

 

You can’t see anything after dark

After dark after dark

That is when they close the park

Close the park, close the park

 

Go in daytime to see the roses

See the roses, make some posies

After dark, the park closes,

The park closes, the park closes

 

On day four, guess what I saw!

Guess what I saw! Guess what I saw

On day four, an apple tree

My neighbour’s tree, an apple tree

 

That apple looked so good to me

Good to me, good to me

My neighbour said, take it please,

I hope you like it, it’s free

 

It is very good to munch

You can have it for your lunch

 I said, you are very kind

How did you see it? You’re half blind

 

He said, I’m only colour blind

He said, I don’t see red on green

You’d be surprised how much I’ve seen

You’d be surprised how much I’ve seen

 

Besides, there’s so much I can tell

From the touch, and from the smell

Here comes a cat, how do I know

The birds don’t sing. Where do they go?

 

The birds don’t say, I was here first

They don’t say, let cats do their worst

Wise birds don’t sing a tell tale song

They don’t say, I’m right, the cat’s wrong

 

The world is big, they fly away

 

The birds find somewhere else to play

That old cat will die one day

And birds come back another day.

 

In other countries, have a rest

And then come back, our welcome guests

The farmers say that birds are pests

A few are welcome, but not so many

 

Wise birds know when to stay or fly

Some build their nests high in the sky

Some like birds, some like cats

Some like both, I’ve heard of that

 

Some folk stay home, plant apple trees

Some build big boats and sail the seas

Some take gifts, and some take skills

Some work hard, and pay their bills

 

And at weekends stay home and rest

Admiring birds in their small nests

Some people say, I’ve done no wrong

I work, I play, I hear a song

 

I look out and what do I see?

A small bird singing in the tree

He sings for birds, not just for me

But good to hear we all agree

 

Oranges grow where it is hot

Apples grow where it is not

Bees in hives will make you honey

Good honey sells for lots of money

 

In tropics dates grown in the heat

Big juicy grapes, so good to eat

See rice, that’s nice, wines from grape vines

Pasta, wheat, dates, sell, buy, eat

 

Some like fruit, and some like greens

Some can’t eat fish, some won’t eat meat

Some like sugar, others don’t

And some guests will, whilst others won’t

 

So long as we can all agree

What they don’t eat leaves more for me

There’s many more apples if you plant a tree

More fish in tanks and a wider sea

 

Another small bird in that same tree

Another small bird in that same tree.

What do I see , a big oak tree

Yes, that’s what I see, a big oak tree

 

Under the tree, guess what I found

An acorn, small, and long, and round

After time a small acorn grows

To a big oak tree, everyone knows.

-ends-

Family Secrets comic poet 493 by Angela Lansbury

 My kind and wise friend, writer Barbara

Lived a long and busy, exciting life

Tried every job, was twice a step-mother

Nursed the sick, three times a devoted wife

I was outspoken, outraged, indignant

On that memorable and shocking day

She confessed she'd found racy diaries

From her single days, shocked, thrown them away

To me they were stories of an era

Lessons which we all could have learned

The past should not be lost nor forgotten

Not lost or wasted, inheritance earned

But she didn't want her dear grand-daughter

So pure, innocent, trusting, round-eyes, sweet

To see the sordid past of her granny

Who the world's readers would now never meet

Yet now I'm frail, body and mind, eighty

I've reached the same grand age, and thought the same

I've thrown away 'fiction', porn I'd written

Censored each doubtful page, to save my name

I've thown away lacy pants and torn clothes

Sold the high heels, put sex toys in the bin

To seem a darling, sweet, soft old lady

Not one who lived a life of frantic sin

So there's one thing I must warn you, dear friends

When you tut at what silly old folk do

That when you've seen their events. reached their age

You'll find the old's new thoughts are just you

When you hide your youthful life from the old

When through the world you go and gently grow

You want to help youngsters avoid mistakes

So what kids do unseen, the parents know

But what the oldies did no-one suspects

New young don't understand life's rules and game

Until you've played each sport and tune and card

And know hurdles and people stay the same.

Most kids are good, obey, sometimes rebel 

Yet, too late, their parents are good teachers

Most grannies nod, smile, listen, kind and wise

Some old men, reformed, are shouting preachers.

-ends-

My first draft is easy to say, conversational rhythm, but banal. My revision loses its predictable rhythm and everyday phrases, becomes alliterative, twists, surprises, the rhythm is lost, more literary, less everyday cliche, more insightful, more prose than poetry, more technical and scientific and surprising than a nursery rhyme.

Problem Solving, Moths comic poem 492 by Angela Lansbury

 Today I had a problem

Glad to say my problem's solved

But tomorrow I'll have more of them

'cos problems, they evolve.

Every item that you have

Is a problem someone solved

The car, the chair, shampoo for hair

They have all evolved

I had to sew on hat elastic

And order lining for a hat

I had lavender to repel moths 

Then I unwrapped a Mothout trap

I used a mop to clean the floor

So proud of what I've done

But soon I must do that again

So I must make it fun

By thanking all the people who

Built the house, and roof and floor

The windows and the curtains

The knocker, bell and door

I'm indebted to all of them

The inventors gone before

Pop-up toasters, zips and Velcro

There is more, and more and more

Every day I face fresh problems

My first challenge is ablutions

But there's Wiki, Google, dictionary

And my own unique solutions.

-ends-

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Chips, Cakes And Fruit For Kids & Guests comic poem 491 by Angela Lansbury

 Yalda solstice celebration cakes pretending to be melon. From Wikipedia. Caption from Angela.

My favourite food, I think, is chips

Seen on the plate, you lick your lips

Between the teeth, then underneath

The tongue, then munch, fish and chip lunch

I should change chips for baked potato

Should not add butter to my mash

And margarine? The rules have changed

Shop healthily? Or to stash cash

I hated beef, tough as old boots

You simply add soy sauce, of course

Anything half price is my loot

I frowned at yogurt, added fruit

Yes, chocolate, but sometimes fruit

Innocent as a birthday suit

Cut like a sun, another one

Tooth picks on melon look so cute

I love the watermelon red

It sends thoughts dancing in my head

Refreshed before I go to bed

It's lively lovely, tomato red

Add lemon yellow

I'll feel mellow

Lime, orange, grapefuit are its fellows

I take a sip, spit out a pip

What's strange is how my tastes have changed

I could not eat olives or pickles

I did not think that spice was nice

But now I love acidic trickles

The health inspector, monster said

Don't eat a big meal before bed

After big meals I'll rest my head

I yawn, I'm sinning, but not swimming

Some kids eat sweets, and some eat meat

To make them stop playing's a feat

For some a strawberry's a treat

Variety's what they should eat

Alas, I eat to compete

I have to eat as much as you

I feel guilty, this is silly

Is this what all fat people do?

If what you fancy does you good

Please take more fun and fattening food

I shouldn't discuss tomorrow's diet

Welcome guests should smile - and keep quiet.

-ends-

Quick Change From Zero To Hero comic poem 490 by Angela Lansbury

Angela Lansbury, in London, December 2024. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

From water to wine

From wine to water

In moderation,

Smiles, not loud laughter

There was some laughter

I learned a lot

From the new contacts

I have got

I have a lot

Of tales to tell

The best news is

That I slept well

From friend to lover

From drunk to sober

From youth to wisdom

I'm not hungover

From wake to stare

From now to where

From here to there

From table to chair

From walk to talk

From board to chalk

From reader to preacher

From learner to teacher

From search to mess

From shower to dress

From smile to kissed

From wrist to list

From what shall I say

To have a nice day

From inner swearword

To please go away

From a simple poem

To lots of knowing

From understanding

To telling and showing

From minus one

To starting snowing

From getting ready

To I'm not going

From late breakfast

To a late lunch

From Americanisms

To thanks - a bunch

To wondering whether

I'm wasting time

From checking my clock

Your time or mine

From ups and downs

To shrugging off pains

From smiles to frowns

Write down small gains

From getting a parcel

To thanks to send

From a stranger

To a new friend

From day to night

In winter time

The days are short

In a seasonal climes

Just when you bought 

Big winter boots

The garden shows

Small green spring shoots

From wondering what

Is round life's bend

From a quick start

To surprise sudden end.

-ends-

Talk About A Knife & Fork comic poem number 489 by Angela Lansbury

Don't be afraid of long menus

Or young waiters, arrive early

Ask for their help, make them feel good

They'll smile, chat, show teeth pearly

To those used to using chopsticks

Knives and forks are confusing cutlery 

Everyday layouts won't confuse the Brits

But silver service is a mystery

Each country has its own good rule

But it needs communication

To diners and new waiters

To avoid lots of confusion

 Let's talk about a knife and fork

The knife is on the right

The fork is on the left

The soup spoon's first, far right

Why is the knife on the right?

Easy to understand

Before forks were invented

Knives were gripped by your cutting, (fighting!) hand

Soup Course And Plate

The British eat warming soup first

(The Chinese eat soup last)

Soup spilt in laps mishaps the worst

Tilt plate away, danger is passed

Knife & Fork Position

You start from the outside.

Placed A-shape on plates is silent talk

Still eating, paused, might finish soon.

Next, the soup spoon and the tea spoon

Soup Spoons

A dessert spoon's large and oval

A soup spoon's deep and round

For both clear broth and thick soup

Don't slurp but sip without a sound 

Spoon sizes

Yes, the English soup spoon's bowl is round

In Europe that's unknown

Dessert spoon oval, tea spoon small

Coffee spoon smaller, should be shown 

The serving waiter's on diner's right

Another's clearing from the left

All silently, like ghosts out of sight

Waiting at distance, watching, deft

When you finish in England

Knife and fork together, upwards, on the plate

Silently says, 'Waiter, clear now 

We do not wish to wait!'

A chocolate comes with the bill

We hope that bill won't break our banks

Waiters smile, lead to the door

'Please come again,' bow, smiling thanks.

-ends-

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Where Does A Poem Come From? comic poem number 488 by Angela Lansbury

Where does a poem come from?

It's not floating in the air

It's pushing to be written

I wake from dozing in my chair

A poem starts like a dream

Ready to be recollected

From a dictionary of ideas

To be sorted and selected

The dictionary's a house of words

Short? Long? words aren't all the same

Your choice, your voice calls to be heard

Rhyme and rhythm rule the game

***

Messages prompted by emotion

Advertising, propaganda

I frown and scratch my tangled hair

I yawn and scrawl, right-hander

I'm glad I learned to touch type

Thoughts rush like waves, like pop-up toast

Re-writing not just a hype

Re-typing's what I do the most

I have tools correcting spelling

Which keep checking while I am dressing

Whatever thoughts I'm selling

The computer helps compressing

And if banal words bore us

AI, yet to try, is on hand

Inspiration from thesaurus

Helps me, clarify, you, understand

Even without a reader

My effort's not diminished

I can show it to the world

As soon as I have finished

A poem is a joy, 

A comedy to share

To prove one has a heart.

To tell the world you care

To lighten, brighten up your day

A good poem's worthwhile

For both writer and dear reader

To provide a daily smile.

-ends-

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Lost comic poem 487 by Angela Lansbury

 Where did I lose the thing I've lost?

I hope I'll find it - fingers crossed

Perhaps the object's in its place

And I'm the one confused and lost.

-ends-

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Description	Français : Fête de la musique 2019 à Genève. Objets trouvés : un petit chien en peluche « doudou », une pince à cheveux, posé sur un distributeur à sachets pour crottes de chiens « Caninette ».
Date	23 June 2019, 15:13:09
Source	Own work
Author	MHM55

A picture's worth a thousand words of poetry? Comic poem 486 by Angela Lansbury

 

A poem paints a picture, I wish

Is a picture's worth a thousand words?

You can recite with both your eyes shut

Ballads learned at school, so often heard

A sun, a moon, a bridge, two love birds

A plate, a cup, and a candle flame

A fairy, two witches, add a third

A banner, signature, famous name

Can I frame a poem in a border

Lines of pretty flowers, plants or leaves

Wild seas, letters, a leaning tree trunk

Like a scroll from a wave on high seas

I often wondered how to do it

Or create each picture in Powerpoint

With a background of waving colour

Tall, or wide, made on a Conva slide

Can I learn to illustrate poems

With charcoal sketches or news cartoons

Water colour, oil or acrylic

To silence the watching reading rooms

Then turn my poems into a book

With messages, traditional themes

That love conquers war, or even more

Rainbows of lasting peace, vivid dreams.

-ends-

Short Poems - comic poem 485 by Angela Lansbury

 

Medium size label. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

My shortest rhyme is it'll fit.

But too short's futility

Poems first need utility

Comic poems add wit

The Japanese write concise haiku

But I'll not inflict cuts on you

(I'm never quite sure what to do

Is the subject fiction? It sounds true.)

The haiku's beats are five and seven

But I'm at ease with 8,10, 11

Their poems speak of Spring, ponds, frogs

Not real life cities, fights, dead dogs

I'm a would-be doctor, poem nurse.

Try a long poem with short verses

A short poem with long verses

A simple couplet, ought to do it.

Why write short poems?

To save time

The reader's, writer's

Yours and mine

So, I'll try again, dear friend

Don't let work drive you round the bend

Bring all work quickly to an end

Remember to click done or send.

I must leave now or I'll be late -

Before I leave, in real life, wave

On some websites, with slides, click save

On blogger you must click update

But tell your listener what to do

A good reminder to self, too

And make the listener feel you care

Ask them politely, please share.

I am not tall, not tall at all

I don't climb walls in case I fall

A short poem sounds good to me

That size will suit me perfectly.

Each poem should be in three sizes

The longest one with twist end surprises

Small, medium or large? The buyer's call

Like shirts, it's not true one size fits all.

-end-

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Tick Tock comic poem 484 by Angela Lanabury

 Tick tock, like tinnitus, can you all hear

Christmas carols call like a ticking clock?

What is the date? Gift stocking can't be late

Dusk's dark as midnight - but it's only five

The elves and rheindeer grin on socks

To brighten up the end of year

All kinds of chocolates on the plate

And gifts galore to buy and give

Tesco gifts Grinchmas. Photo by Angela Lansbury.

I'm half asleep, and yawning, half alive

Santa's red and white hats fill tinselled shops

Wearing heavy, hooded coats, we still strive

To sparkle until winter flu strike stops.

Lights on lamp posts in Hatch End. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

White lights wound round lamp posts brighten our streets

Past pickpockets, join jolly shopping crowds

Shops fill with tempting chocolate Christmas treats

Dream of diet-free days when pud's allowed.

Tesco shopping at Clubcard prices for Curtis the Cavapoo plush. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

In January masochists will go

To countries blessed with even worse, deep snow

Well after Fall, when snowflakes are falling

Sales start, ski brochure bargains are calling.

Christmas crackers give jokes, mottoes, and rhymes

While others fly to warmer, palm tree climes

I wrap like snowmen, wait for happy times

When wise, kind clocks leap forward to summer time.

-end-

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Why Not Try AI? Comic poem 483 by Angela Lansbury

 

Mobile phone case. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

Once we were scared by a mobile phone

But now we can't leave ours alone

We've loads of them throughout our home

Missed out year one - wish we had known 

How I wish we hadn't grumbled

Everything changed when prices tumbled.

We feel scared by all things new

AI can help to pull us through

At first AI was scary and

It frightened me a little bit

Covid made us leave friendly rooms

But now we meet the world on Zooms

Wiki tells us all we need to know

We travel, see zoos on video

We lost bank passwords and were skint

But now do banking with thumb print

Will AI steal our writing jobs?

Now microwaves replace gas hobs

Well, some things change while others last

Saliva tests reveal our past

Videos show us traffic jams

And hit and runs caught on dash cams

Door cameras say the mail's arrived

We can hear baby's still alive

We see our children learn at school

And check the fridge-freezer's still cool

Rush through stations to catch our train

Driverless wonders on time again

I shop online - can AI cook?

It can if I supply the book

If  AI warns of fire and flood

Robots rescue - that must be good

While everything has negatives

I'll focus on the positive

AI was sent from Gods above

To match make and find us true love.

-ends-

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A Smile Baby poem comic number 482 by Angela Lansbury

Smile. Photo by Angela Lansbury.

Every baby needs a smile granny

Failing that, a smile nanny

Every grumpty granny needs a smile baby

Every grinning grandpa needs a listening baby

If you smile at a cry baby enough

They turn into a smile baby

If you smile at a smile baby enough

They turn into a smile child

If you smile at  a smile child enough

They turn into a smile teen

If you smile at a smile teen enough

They turn into a smile lover

If a smile lover smiles at others enough

They find another smile lover

If they smile at each other enough

They end up with a cry baby

But if they smile at a cry baby enough

It turns into a smile baby

If I write enough smiles for her and him

I'll end up with a smile poem.

-ends-

Saving Space comic poem 481 by Angela Lansbury

 Gadgets designed for saving space

Are filling my over-filled place

I buy suitcases which expand

And scissors which fit both my hands

My problem is I cannot find

The white walking cane for the blind

The hearing aid, and my spare teeth

Are hidden somewhere underneath

I know I bought one, but forget

The secret place where it was set

To hide from burglars, book disguise

Will also hide it from my eyes

I've summer clothes and winter clothes

But in between ones, no-one knows

They're in a suitcase, on the floor

Or hiding, shy, behind the door

I need to find the bill for rates

I found the tea cups, lost the plates

I found the fork but lost the knife

Can't find tea spoons to save my life

I've fixed ten shelves onto the wall

But can't find anything at all.

I've put old leaflets in the bin

But more arrive - you just can't win.

I've folded big bags in small ones

Expanding bags - holiday fun

Old things bought last year now are missed

My shopping list - I've lost that list

What will they say when I have died?

Here's the whole life of this old dear

To sort it out will take a year

Throw it away - at least she tried.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury

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Which picture is the real me? Comic poem 480 by Angela Lansbury

 

Angela Lansbury, caricaturist.

Angela Lansbury wearing green Xmaa tree headband.

Angela Lansbury with cat puppet and fabric snake.

Happy Birthday plate at restaurant. Angela Lansbury.

Angela Lansbury celebrating with rose wine.

Angela Lansbury wearing red Toastmasters International tee-shirt.

 Which picture is the real me?

And do you see the me I see?

Pretty and young or wise and old

Careful, cautious, brash or bold?

Should I convey true me today

Or dressed up on a special day?

Can I perform in comedy

Still be taken seriously?

Should I be red and dressed for fun

Or white at night as game's begun

Then change into my dancing shoes?

It's marketing, choose gain not lose!

Should I hold up a microphone

And make sure that I stand alone

Hold a doll, a prop or puppet?

Add more photos, no, I'll stop it.

I'll add a book - do I need it?

If I show it, will you read it?

If I show it, will you buy it?

PR people say, yes, try it.

Or should I choose what makes me smile

Brings back a happy memory?

If you don't understand my choice

Nod and smile and write to ask me.

-ends-