Kids. Three Different Ones.

A slightly cheeky ‘two birds with one stone’ post linking up with several blog shares (see links in footer and/or my home page)…

Motivational Monday’s theme this month is children, but while much of my wider writing is for children I rarely write about them (or parenting) in my blog, and if I do it’s generally as an aside. With that in mind, and determined to stay on topic, I searched my hard drive for a few poems about, rather than ‘for’ children. These are the first three I found…


Do other parents feel it,
This ball of ice in the pit of the guts
When child meets child?
Do they wait for the moment
When gentle shoves and friendly teasing
Turn to something uglier altogether?
Do they hold their breath in anticipation
Of that moment of blossoming realisation: 

Some. Thing. Different.

The literal interpretation of a joke unfathomed
The momentary panic revealed when locked

By the raw aggression of a direct question
By the naked power of an unguarded look. 

So small, the gap,
Between being here and being somewhere other
So easy, to slip between the cracks

And be lost forever.


Today I met a princess
She had red hair and when she swung on the swing
It was a flaming torch that could be seen for miles around.
She had three monkeys, and they danced for her.
One played hide and seek beneath the table in the café
He did NOT get any gingerbread, the cheeky so-and-so. 

She was a very quiet princess – she hardly said a word all day
I got the impression, though, that she could be quite noisy when she wanted to be.
I haven’t met many princesses, but this one seemed very nice
Not snooty, like you might expect, and she was very kind to her monkeys.
I wonder if all princesses are that nice
Or if it’s just the ones with hair like fire?

The Cupboard Under the Stairs

It’s not as dark as you think it would be
Once your eyes adjust
There’s an air-brick halfway up the wall that lets the daylight leak inside.
If it’s sunny the beams are bright as torch-light, and dust motes dance between them.
On cloudy days it’s darker
But you can still see 

Sometimes it’s not dark enough
So I close my eyes
That fixes it. 

I like the sounds that can’t quite get in
Gangs of kids playing outside sound deeper and duller
Like holding a pillow in front of the TV speaker
An ice-cream van in the next street whispers Greensleeves.
Why do ice-cream vans always play Greensleeves? 

Best of all: no one knows I’m here
When I climb out they say
Where have you been hiding?
And I say, I haven’t been hiding
I’ve just been quiet
And they laugh, which makes me happy.


10 thoughts on “Kids. Three Different Ones.”

    1. Thank you. I wasn’t quiet often as a child, but once or twice a week I would escape to either the cupboard under the stairs or the ‘top box’ of a built in wardrobe in my mum’s bedroom and just disconnect from the world for an hour or so. It was lovely. 🙂

    1. Thank you… and always a pleasure, never a wossname. I’ve added some more pomes for Monday Club / Motivational Monday, so they will probably appear on one or other of your linkies soon!

  1. Love the cupboard under the stairs poem, especially the: ‘When I climb out they say/Where have you been hiding?//And I say, I haven’t been hiding/I’ve just been quiet’ – excellent!

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