The Toy Mouse In The House. Poem Number 850 by Angela Lansbury

Sleeping Unicorn Shoes. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

 Once upon a time, not so very long ago

In a house with big windows lived a happy. little girl

She wore a pink, princess dress, and shoes which looked like unicorns

And had hair with plaits, a fringe, and two long curls

She liked to write the alphabet

And numbers to a hundred, in a large white book

And draw flowers, and houses, colour people with black hair

Eat strawberries, do gymnastics, and microwave cook

She lived in a tall house with steep stairs and red chairs

At school she had lots of friends with yellow, brown, black and red hair

She climbed on frames in the park until it got dark

Walked home past shops with windows around a curvy bend

On a holiday, grandparents took her out for the day

To a sandy beach by a lake, with a pirate ship

She rode on a tiny train which went out, and back again

Then she had a big white ice cream and ate every bit

At bedtime her parents would read her a book

With pictures in rainbow colours, red, orange, yellow, green and blue

Some of the pictures told funny, silly stories

But the best books told you things which you knew were true

Her favourite book was about a mouse

Which had lived in Egypt, thousands of years ago

It was terrified of a tall, black statue of a cat

Which stood by a pyramid, near where the Nile River flows

She imagined the descendants of that small, scared mouse

Lived in the field by the forest, far behind her house

Near to the river, but far from the sea

Where they ran about freely, under a tall tree

At night she dreamed she held, for them, a birthday party

She prepared, cleaned the house, swept, then would bake

Wrap ribbons, tie bows on bead bracelet gifts for dolls and toys

And share with the small mice a nice, large, cheesecake birthday cake

She slept soundly all through the night

When all her fears of monsters drifted on clouds far away

So she woke to see the rain stopped, just lovely sunlight

So she could play outside on a great weekend day

Each day ends with dreams of curved moons and straight sunlight rays

Or playing outside by swings on a great weekend day

Her fearful monsters shrank, and floated off, on clouds far away

She slept soundly all night to end a satisfying day.

-ends- 

Inspired by my extended family. The sandy beach, pirate ship and train were at Ruislip Lido in North West London, England, UK.

A child's bedtime story ideally has soothing sounds and lots of monotonous repetition to lull you to sleep, and ends with an image of somebody sleeping.

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My books are on Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk and Lulu.com

You can peep into some of the books online. If you buy a book and see me at a meeting of Toastmasters in Harrow such as Harrovians or HOD, I will sign a copy of the book and write a rhyming couplet for you, or the recipient, in the dedication.

If you want me to write a poem on any jolly subject, please write to me in the comments in this blog. I would love to hear from you.  I have readers from all over the world, the USA, Singapore, Brazil, France, Bangladesh, Vietnam, Hong Kong, India, the UK, and many more countries - amazing, isn't it!

I'm Searching For A Metaphor, Bed-ridden. Comical poem number 803 by Angela Lansbury.

Angela Lansbury in red and white dress by Thai style double beds beside Melia hotel swimming pool, Tenerife, Canary Islands. Photo by Trevor Sharot.

What can I say about this gorgeous, fancy bed?

I have a dictionary of words churning through my mixer head 

I want to inspire, with hopes, visions and dreams

The possible, impossible, what is is and merely seems

I climb every mountain looking for a metaphor

I swim a sea of similes and copy those who wrote before

I reflect and then reject originals which I suspect

Will not endure, and throw them on the floor

I look at pots, at kettles, at black, and red and white

I search through morn, dawn and torn, dark night, white snow and light

I'm happy seeing sunlight, and storms and rain and pain

I hope the night will put things right in spring, forget the years of winter tears sure to come again

I ride a mental horse along the river's course, back to the bubbling source

View the battle which does not stop until I reach the mountaintop

I wait for my ship, train, bus, bike, donkey, camel, plane, which end all pain and bring me joy again

Like a gift list, parcel, birthday song, which lasts so long it makes me strong

Ready to walk with boots or shoes, clad in my clothes of reds and blues

And eat ice cream with friends I meet, along the leafy, shady street

Until at last all words are said, and I can rest my heavy head

End my day my own way, and post four times from my silk-soft bed.

-ends-

The last line in a pun on four poster bed.

Back To Bed - Mine's The Best. Comical poem 780 by Angela Lansbury

 

I lay half the day on my comfy bed

Better than a chair, my feet in the air

On my silk pillow case I lay my head

Supposed to smooth wrinkles, and soften hair

The mattress won't say which way I should lay

Nor when I rise or return, where to go

Sometimes it's lumpy, sometimes it's bumpy

When I need soft support, it seems to know.

A child likes to explore, learns to share, loan

'It's mine!', my own, familiar, feels 'at home'

I'm not Picasso nor Shakespeare

But I made this, it's mine, it's here

Your own bed, car, father, mother

Your own chair, house, or dress

It's everybody's favourite

'though you'd like more, your own's the best.

-ends-

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The Best Bed. Comical poem number 742 by Angela Lansbury.

 

I sink into my lovely bed

Soft pillows welcome tired head

The firm mattress gives me support

Promotes constructive thought, I hope

Here I can stretch, wiggle my toes

Rotate my head, and rub my nose

My desk and chair it must be said

Great by day, can't compete with bed

One day you're born, sick, well, or dead

Meanwhile, enjoy breakfast in bed

A new mattress, but keep the frame

So your old bed fakes looks the same

Sort out ideas, yawn, plan schemes

With confidence realise dreams

Turn electric blankets off, on

Night clothes worn until seams torn 

Are sheets designed to cause a fight?

Pulled to the left and then the right

Although tucked in with all your might

Refuse to stay fixed all the night

Electric levers raise the foot

I lift my legs and exercise

One day we'll do it with AI

By voice, I hope no seeing eye 

The bedroom door can open wide

Or hide your precious things inside

Shut window, curtains, dress on door

Bookshelf, lampshade, shoes, carpet floor

The duvet warm where you can hide

The naughty thoughts you keep inside

A refuge for coughs, from the cold

Haven for couples, young and old

A place to lay small girls or boys

Hug mum then snuggle with soft toys

Enjoy deep sleep, then leap refreshed

Leave bed, see day, dress, be your best.

-ends-

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You Are Not Alone: comical poem number 720 by Angela Lansbury

Mobile phone. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

You are never alone if you have a phone

The family know you're out or at home

Laughing or griping, whatsapp sees typing

You're in the soup if you share with a group

When it's dark and cold and you stay in bed

Google can guess what is inside your head

You may feel fraught over what you have bought

More ads pop up, your food, drink and pets caught

If this surveillance drives you round the bend

Sometimes good surprises can make amends

AI can tell us how this poem ends

While we block enemies and follow friends.

-ends-

Stealing An hour poem 694 by Angela Lansbury

My bedcover, red with white birds flying. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

 I know I ought to go to bed

When night time cleaners clear my head

Yet every night I stay up late

I've thoughts to write which cannot wait

I'm trying to give life meaning

I love the quiet of the night

Protect laughter, stop life's screaming

Postpone facing traffic noise, light

And yet I know that I'm stealing

Hours which belong to tomorrow

Like taking two biscuits, chocolates

Means less later, to my sorrow

Some say you steal from life's end

If in your youth sleep hours you spend

Who knows what fate will throw my way

I'll grab another hour today.

-ends.

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My poetry books are on Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk and Lulu.com

My latest book of anecdotes is Embarrassing Moments

Dream Exhibition In Fancy Dress comical poem 680 by Angela Lansbury

I had a dream about a scene

With booths from round the world

Where colourful clothes, masks, novelties

For free were flagged, unfurled

But most exciting of them all

Were sellers in fancy dress

And masks, like Trump, Madonna

Some wore more and some much less

The USA had dating booths

A bearded man of six foor four

Dressed up as a carrot

Said, 'You're the one I adore!'

I had so many offers

From weird, fun masked men for a date

I wondered would it really last

Which one might be my mate?

It was such a giggle

As I hopped from shop to shop

Til I hid in the toilet

And thought, this has to stop

Paired, dated in a restaurant

And that was really grand

But back in bed my date had

A lady in his left hand

I wasn't really bothered

I did not make him choose

He promised I was his great love

So I had nothing to lose

I was sorry when I woke

And found these scenes were a dream

My many men in funny, fancy clothes

Had not been what they seemed.

-ends-

I changed so long as I was chosen to He promised I was his great love.

I think this dream was inspired, after an evening of wine tasting, the wines free because all included in the price already paid. Then by looking at Indigo Moon patchwork clothes on ebay last thing at night. Also thinking about the ticket to the World Travel Market. Finally thinking about a Toastmasters Speech Contest where I was not a contestant therefore a performer or judge or audience member wooed by performing contestants voicing different characters wearing masks or hats or outfits.

Night Time Movies comical poem 674 by Angela Lansbury

When I'm up before dawn

I yawn and yawn

I want to write

But I've meetings at night

 I have the best movie seat in my bed

My favourite dead all live in my head

They talk and laugh and give me pleasure

My memory is a store house of treasure

Their words repeat like the chorus of song

Everything's right and nothing is wrong

Like busy people, they must move on

Daylight strikes  - like Euridice they've gone 

Like Amazon, dreams will deliver

Fulfilling your order of what you lack

And if you don't like what you are sent

It costs nothing to pack it all back

I know they're just dreams

I create in my head

A private viewing

The blessing of bed.

-ends-

Euridice, Greek myth, wife following, but if husband looks back, she will vanish.

I like to end poems on a positive note.

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What Other People Write About comical poem 543 by Angela Lansbury

What other people write about

On days when they cannot go out

Most children write of simple things

Bikes, scooters, not safe swimming rings

Of playing games and silly names

Of buses, cars and trains and planes

About goldfish, big cats, small dogs

Not giggly things like jumping frogs

Teenagers write about first love

A kiss and the blind moon above

Later they write about love lost

Of drugs and fast cars, not the cost

Whilst lying in their single bed

They dream of one they wish they'd wed.

Parents write of their baby's smiles

Not dripping taps nor laying tiles.

Old people, some like to complain

Although there's lots they should explain

Their youth which won't come back again

Claim their life's full of sun - or rain

Now, poets, what do poets write?

Of how they sat up half the night

And tried to put the world to right

Telling what other people write.

-ends-

Photo of Angela Lansbury with large pencil.

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Today's Tomorrow comic poem by Angel Lansbury number .474..

 I had such a delightful day 

With family, old and new friends

Sweet food and good thoughts flowed my way

Who'd want such a sweet day to end

But when with shock I saw the clock

Careless joy was turned to sorrow

What I thought was early today

Already early tomorrow 

I must protect body and head

Be good always do the right thing

Tiptoe to welcome soft-hard bed

Remove glittery rhinestone rings

Green fish ring. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

I let myself sink in a dream

Where soothing nonsense words are heard 

Where mud seem to be bright and clean

Magic glamour of the absurd

All jumbled up was my whole week

I'd fallen in a coffee cup

Maybe my toe caught in the sheet

Over sugar rocks, I climbed up

In dreams I'm young and I am bold

Although my right leg's feeling cold

And I forget I'm getting old

Tomorrow will be good I'm told

I happily made my escape

Out of my bed, grab, I'm falling

The light told me it was daybreak

Hot breakfast croissant was calling

Well, life moves on, what can I say

Tomorrow now is yesterday

'though its tomorrow's now today

Hurray, future's still far away.

-ends- 

The title is ambiguous. It could mean the tomorrow of today, or the tomorrow is today.

I need to protect my body and head - more than my eight syllable pattern, I must protect body and head - that's eight syllables.

Dreaming, Dreaming rhythmic comic poem number 236 by Angela Lansbury

Dreaming dreams beyond belief

Waking up is a relief

Clearing, clearing, clearing head

Getting, slowly, out of bed

Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning teeth

Search for shoes hidden beneath

Just one shoe, who was the thief?

Find the other, what relief!

Waking, waking, waking woke

Eating, eating, eating, yolk

Quickly, quickly, quickly, quick

Licking, lovely, licking, lick

Feeding, feeding, feeding, fed

Reading, reading, reading, read

Speaking, speaking, speaking, spoke

Telling, telling, telling, joke

Boating, boating, boating, boat 

Floating, floating, floating, float

Writing, writing, writing, wrote

Gloating, gloating, gloating, gloat

Building, building, building, brick

Feeling, feeling, feeling, sick

Some people are rather thick

Getting, getting, on my wick

Some people can do no wrong

Longing, longing, longing, long

Moving, moving, moving on

Going, going, going on.

Lovely, lovely, lovely sun

Time to run, and run and run

Til the exercise is done

Some people's idea of fun

If it rains, more rain and rain

It waters the flowers again

As for me, never complain

Ten umbrellas match all  rain

Angela with red umbrella. Photo by Trevor Sharot.

Shopping, shopping, shopping shop

Carry bags until I drop

Wonder if I'll ever stop

Keep them till buttons pop

Lovely dresses, dresses, dresses

Nine successes, what success is

Only ever had one flop

Never, ever, ever stop

I'm a poet, poet, poet

So I show it, show it, show it

If you have the talent grow it

Let the whole world love and know it.

Angela writing with outsize pencil. Photo by Angela Lansbury.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury 2023, Thursday September 5th. 

Read this aloud. It is a triumph, a joy of rhythm. A perfect piece of performance poetry.

I hope to perform it at Swanwick Writers' Summer School in 2024. I must put it on Tiktok.

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Sleepless, Sleepy, Slept comic poem 227 by Angela Lansbury

Four poster bed in the Old Bridge Hotel. Photo by Angela Lansbury. copyright.

Old proverbs tell you what is true

Eternal truths kick me and you

Like kind mother, helpful teacher

God's stern rules, persistent preacher

 

You can't burn candles at both ends

Stayed up late? You must make amends

Sleep tight! Alas I woke at night

I hope oversleep puts clocks right

Do I need eight, full hours, or more?

Upright in planes, or on the floor?

I should be grateful I'm in bed

But thoughts fight battles in my head

No borrower nor lender be

The person who I cheat's me.

Last night I used my time awake

Then shut my eyes, ignored day break

Will I be turned back at heaven

Because I slept to eleven?

No matter, I passed one life's test

I made sure I got eight hours' rest.

-ends-

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Coconuts Make You Nuts comic poem 225 by Angela Lansbury

Coconuts. Photo from Wikipedia.

Down by the cool blue swimming pool

The water's cool and I am cool

The trees provide a welcome shade

After my swim, sit in the glade

The unformed guide soon comes out

His job is walk about and shout

Not like a bride, more like a groom

With a brisk broom sweeping in each room

Maybe, 'cause he's always working

He sees me swim,  thinks I'm shirking

It's exercise, I tell no lies

Yes, a 'work out' must mean working

Coconuts under palms at Cashew Heights condominium Singapore. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

 On trees coconuts are yellow

The Guard warns me, they'll soon mellow

Watch out, too late when they turn brown

For one by one they'll fall down

You never should sit underneath

Because one day you'll come to grief

I am too old to die, and wise

To accidents of any size

I am wary, sit here, sit there

This place, that place, this chair, that chair

My bed is where I'd like to die

That is why I'm coconut shy.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury September 14th 2023.

To help any foreign language speakers, the last line is a pun on a Coconut Shy, which is a game at a fairground where you throw a ball to hit a coconut off its support and win it.

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The Beautiful Broom comic poem 211 by Angela Lansbury

 I'm here to praise the humble broom

Which cleans the floor in every room

The sturdy broom which you can trust

To move around dead dirt, dire dust

To leave the foor and shelves quite clean

To make your home gleaming, pristine

To make the old place look like new

It seems to know just what to do

It does the job, thorough, and yet

Why does it suffer such neglect?

We decorate the walking stick

With handles carved to lure the quick

That parasol displays its paint

Each broom grows dirty, pale and faint

Finally, bristles twisted, thin

It's thrown aside, beside the bin

The broom removes dead spiders' webs

It finds odd shoes under the beds

Under sofas, roll tins of drink

Last night's party? We nod and wink

Let's carve each broom's handle, paint it

Give it honour, give it glory

Each battered broom keeps us healthy

Knows our secrets, tells no story.

-ends-

I have other blogs on travel and dress.

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When I was a Child. Comic poem 143.

When I was a child

A toilet was a potty

and the world was full of people

who my mother said were dotty 

When I was a child

back in the day

You never looked back

beyond yesterday

When I was a child

I didn't have cares

I was not afraid of bears

And I didn't buy shares

I was only afraid of

Things inside my head

Shadows on the stairs

Spiders hide under the bed

When I was a child

You could walk in the wild

And a day was full of hours

And you could pick wild flowers

When I see a laughing baby

I wonder, maybe

One day, in quite a while

You'll remember now and smile.

-ends-

by Angela Lansury 2022  20 June

Play With Puppy Dogs (Comic Poem 130)

Buy a puppy

it won't fail

to greet you with

a wagging tail

Every day

Start with a walk

A one to one

Private talk

You can be sure

it listens well

Your secrets it

Will never tell

Don't lose it

Fit it with a bell

And a collar with 

Your name as well

And to make sure

That it trots home

A dog bed, water

And a bone

Its nose sniffs down 

Along the ground

Its big ears hear

The smallest sound

You never need

Be bored at all

Play catch and fetch

A doggie ball

And when it passes

You'll be fine

They breed lots more

To the same design.

-ends-

New Martian Friends Led by Lars from Mars by Angela Lansbury

Halloween cakes are loved by Martians.

Ten Martians visited us from Mars
In a convoy of polka-dot 3-wheel cars
And when they tucked us into bed
Here's what the mother Martian said:

'We Martians visited earth for a break
Because we're partial to chocolate cake
We're polite and don't make a fuss
So long as you, leave ten pieces for us

'You're lucky to live in your tiny homes
With fabric fairies and plastic gnomes
By the end of weekends we get bolder
And help your homework, over your shoulder

'Martian teens should nap in afternoons
But secretly text friends living on moons
Martian kids look nothing like us
Dads drive to school in a lime green bus

'They're well-mannered, say thank you and please
They're clumsy and cautious and never climb trees
They always smile and they never sigh
They greet you hello and depart with goodbye.

'If you meet a Martian, don't show alarm
Just stand up straight and you won't come to harm
They're from far away lands and never shake hands
It would take too long as they have eight arms.'
-ends- 

Another Cockroach On The Floor and a Spider's Web Over The Bed

Another Cockroach on the Floor and a Spider Over The Bed
a lament by Angela Lansbury

I am barefoot in the bathroom
There's a cockroach on the floor
Which is worse, running or still -
Between me and the door?

If there's one thing I don't like
It's a spider on the bed
I'm sure its bad for flies
But now it hurts my head

Right now things would be better
If one of us were dead.

When I see a spider's web

Lurking empty overhead

I wonder where the spider's gone

It's bound to show, before too long

If I stay still and look around

Inspecting walls, ceiling and ground

Brooches shaped like beetles I don't like a bit
What use is a cockroach, a mosquito-ridden lake
Though I'm prepared to eat a pig-shape chocolate
And I've had round salmon-pink 'steak' from a cut-up snake

But another thing I don't like at all
Is ants on a table or desk
Although a gecko which eats them is useful
Up the wall, like me, devouring pests

We have filled the floor with insect traps
We're choking on insect spray
It's another day in the tropics
But neither they, nor I, will go away.

I read somewhere that cockroaches

Have survived a million years

Frankly a single insect, now

Is enough to tug at my fears

I can throw it through the window

Pretend I did it a favour

I didn't kill it - it might come back

Thinking I am its saviour.

-ends-

The Truth by Angela Lansbury

The Truth

by Angela Lansbury

Now is the time

To tell the truth

To all my fans

And dearest friends

You see your life

Much more clearly

You join the dots

As your life ends

Dreams take me back

To my childhood

When I was small

I ould not see

Couldn’t answer

When they asked me

When you’re adult

What will you be?

I was silent

I wish I’d known

All I needed

A happy home

I left my home

I grew and grew

I searched the world

Stiil never knew

My parents died

Left me alone

Now all I want

Is home sweet home

Now is the time

To tell the truth

To all my fans

And dearest friends

All I need is

A table and chair

A bed, smart head 

And friends who care

I am so glad

When we all meet

That’s all I need

Then life is sweet

There are true friends

I can’t forget

Good souls like you

I’ve not yet met.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury, March 23 2016
See books on writing poetry by Angela Lansbury on Lulu.com

Comments, commendations, suggestions for improvement or publication welcome.