Rhythm and Rhyme Workshop

Deer Hunters' Camp

It's another year of Deer Hunters' Camp
Where my friend Tom caught fire while igniting his lamp.
He screamed, 'Put me out! ' as he ran out of sight.
I yelled, 'Stop, drop and Roll... and you'll be alright! '
Then there was Greg, who loved to get drunk.
He passed out in his tent, while hugging a skunk.
Him stinking so bad, it must have been hell.
So, we kept him down wind because of the smell.
Now here comes Bill, who brought us a treat.
He fed us all jerky that smelled just like feet.
We about beat him to death with a bag full of rocks
‘Cause, it wasn't deer jerky, it was hard crusty socks.
We hunted all week without any luck
Then what came into camp was the world's largest buck.
We looked at each other, beaten and tired
Then pointed our guns, but nobody fired.
We seemed to go through this year after year
And I'm never amazed why we haven't got deer.
When we all get together, the deer is the champ
But, there's always next year at Deer Hunters' Camp.

Flying Raisins
By Roger Horsch

Flying raisins are in the air, there are flying raisins everywhere
I see them flying all around, I see them landing on the ground
I wish they would just go away, but they’ll just come back another day
I see them flying in the sky, I see them getting in my pie
I see them walking on my cake, I see them in everything I make
I wish they would just go away, but they’ll just come back another day
I find them in my cookie dough, I don’t know why they just won’t go
I do not like them can’t you see, flying raisins are all over me
I don’t know where they come from, I just want them to leave
There’s three or four more on my shirt, and two more on my sleeve
Then I saw the open box, sitting high upon the rack
I pulled it down then turned it around, it said “ CAUTION “ on the back
It said not for use in cooking, such as cookies, cakes or pies
For I thought I bought a box of raisins, but they were laboratory flies

Humpty Dumpty sat on his wall
and then the shoe came flying.
It smashed his shell when he hit the floor
and Humpty started dying

When the horse came,
he stood and laughed.
because in Humpty's innards
the rodents bathed

When Mother Hen came
She tried a repair.
Sadly she was to late,
she realised in despair.

then Mother Hen
began to rage.
He was the only egg
she had ever laid

and in her rage,
she flapped her wings
and with tears in her eyes
she began to sing

'I will have your head
and then I will laugh.
because it will be your innards
in which the rodents will bath'

the mother flew fast,
As high as the clouds.
she posed as a torpedo
and came dive bombing down.

the horse laughed louder
'what can you do?'
and into his skull
the mother dropped through

covered in blood,
she landed and laughed
'come here little rodents,
I made you a bath'

Good poets are not learned poets
Learned poets are also good poets
Poor poets pose primitively

I am Ice

I am Ice
I come in all forms
I mold into what people want
I crack under people’s feet

I am Ice
Sometimes I’m cold to the touch
Sometimes I boil with rage
Sometime I just want to melt away

I am Ice
You are fire
You bring the heat
You make me nothing

I am Ice
Know me as a snowflake
Know me as an Ice wall
Know me as the Ice queen

Know me; for I am Ice

Written By Jackie Gillis

Friends by Ankita

Such a little word, but means a lot..!
If you don't have one, then what you've got?

Starts with fighting, ends in being friends,
Its is the friendship, which has no end..!

Having friends, is a real pleasure!
If you have one/them, you have real treasure!

They wipe out our tears,
They kick out our fears,
When they insisted to get disappear,
we found heaven no near, ,
Hence, concept of hell becomes clear...


They care for us,
Weather we are fine or weak..!
They fix our broken heart,
Like a fevi quick..!

Friends may scatter,
sometimes distance never matter..!
Memories all over the heart,
Nowhere feels like we are apart..!

Still can smell the tiffin you used to bought,
Still can visualize the fight we once fought,
Still smile on the joke you once cracked,
Still have the rapper you gave me packed, ,

You wanna hear some more??
Then i will say how much i still adore(you) ..!

Friends are the most lively part of me,
Hope same for you guys too.
Junk jeweleries are everywhere,
Diamond jeweleries are few.

confused??Okay.. listen closely!
Fake friends are everywhere,
True friends are few.

This poem should have no end,
Thats what my heart says!
I better say, this poem owes to you my friends,
As I hate to pretend...! :)



@nky

hi i'm new in this site

Ditto! ! ! ! !

Stop your Corruption and stop steal for next generation. We are next generation so give youth chance to get there Education and stop depression them with you Corruption.

The fog crept twixt the stick straight trees

rolled low across the ground.

The yellow moon shone frosted grass

and nothing made a sound.

A low-slung Dingo slunk in the shadows

propped at the edge of a clearing.

His tattered ears swivel fore and aft

alert to the sounds not hearing.

Trotting across the glassy grass

beneath the smoky haze.

Weaving between the fallen trees

by scent through well trod maze.

Tall crosshatched shadows cast moonlit trunks

across the sodden earth.

Pandanus palms dance eerie light

knee deep in dewy surf.

Propped stopped again, ears pricked, eyes sharp,

Paw raised, held breath, breaks into a gallop,

hunting on the hurry.

A panicked fluster of night bird feathers

flees upon the wing.

Caught between the Dingoes teeth

no longer will she sing.

The mournful cry of a lonesome bullocky

like a ship through the thickening fog.

Answered by another

from a distant wetland bog.

Frozen Dingo feathered mouth

stands silent in the mist.

Till all is clear and fog bound sound

is hushed in natures list.

Head dipped low, cross rock, twixt trees

beneath the slippery fog.

He trots a wary traveler,

to his lair the wild bush dog.

Anthony Burge