One was sitting on a bench,

Some was saying words in French,

One was looking at the street,

Tom was shaking his long feet,

John was singing a nice song

Dear Boris struck the gong.

When the evening slowly drew

 There was nothing much to do.

Meg was sitting on a fence,

Bob was showing new pence,

When the boy who was so fat said,

Just like that: I have a nail in my po...

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Preamble: for this week's Rhymers theme "first", here is my first attempt at a villanelle.

My son, it fell to you to be born first

You turned a couple into Mum and Dad

You sometimes had the best, sometimes the worst

You changed our lives when into them you burst,

And for that day I ever shall be glad,

My son, it fell to you to be born first.

Our parenting was w...

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School swimming lesson

The hell of nineteen wet kids

To get dried and dressed

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Preamble: In honour of this week's Rhymers' theme "children", here is a poem written in collaboration with my 7-year-old son.

Some people say they don’t like children

But they are wrong.

We aren’t the ones dropping the bombs.

We aren’t the ones firing the guns.

Children don’t kill other children.

The guy on the ground, he’s just doing as he’s told

The job that he’s paid f...

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I found a picture of you in my arms,

Sleeping securely, safe from harm,

As you knew it, anyway.

Your trust for me was complete,

You wanted for nothing

And thought of my love only

As often as a bird thinks of sky.

You didn’t yet know people

Can go away or even die.

I know how things changed,

But I can’t bear to think of it.

I picture you now, with your love

...

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THE GIANT

By Eloi Chaptal

Mom, mom!

A giant tried to eat me,

He said he was very hungry.

He was as big as a bear

It’s true, I swear!

He had a forest in his nose,

And it was really gross.

Now he is looking at some random paper

But not for long, we are still in danger!

Quick, quick, while we still can,

Let’s run outside and take the van!

“What?” said mom, “Are ...

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Poem 

What is a Poem ?

A poem can be you, 

A poem can be me, 

A poem can be anything you wanted it to be 

It can be a sentence, 

it can be a word,

it can have nonsense,

like me in my world, 

A poem is an art,

and for those who don't think so,

that's means you're just at the start of an endless raibow.

Full of colors and mystery,

Horror and fant...

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My day at school 
wasn't something you'd call as cool

until it was time to eat my bun
and chat with my friends - that was fun

It was time to study but I longed for a 5 star or a munch
Oh, How much I waited for the bell of lunch

I ate a snack and traded one
And then went to basement for a run

Finally it was time to run away
I rushed out shouting hooray!

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Remember when thing's used to be good,

musical sounds, movies the taste of our food

remember when we had such fun playing outside 

fishing running dancing going for a bike ride

A time before machines had us all hooked

when you'd go out for a meal and talk to each other and looked

When your parents would spend time with you

not online pretending to 

When you would burn off ...

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