Welcome to our online celebration of Kenn Nesbitt’s beautiful collection of poems written by 65 poets from all around the world.
Below you will find a display of some of the poems that didn’t make it into the anthology. I thought this might be a fun way to showcase some well loved rejections while also celebrating the release of this stunning book.
I will list the places that you can purchase a copy, should you feel so inclined, at the end of the post. It would make a wonderful Christmas present.
So please enjoy some more wonderful poetry from some of the OMTB poets.
The Tree and Me
Out through my window, I joyfully see
My friend and my neighbor, the old Birchwood tree.
Though his presence is constant, he’s never the same,
To purchase Brian’s book just click the cover.
To notice his changes is my secret game.
Like the way that he flinches when rain hits his leaves,
And how his long branches sashay in the breeze.
Some changes take longer – whole seasons to track,
As he changes through pinks, greens, and yellows; and back.
I’m amazed at the changes he makes every day,
Without even moving one micron away.
I wonder what changes my Birchwood can see,
As he looks in my window and gazes at me!
Joe Mohr’s Poems
The Best Creation?
Maggie made a tigeraffe
Whose neck and claws were long.
Joey made a birdle,
A turtle with a song.
Maria drew a coyokeet,
A parakeet that howled.
Mikey built a twinkipede
While his stomach growled.
Norm designed a hippadee,
A hippo that could fly.
Marsha made an applefish
That smelled like apple pie.
Johnny made a catfish
Not knowing they existed.
Bernie drew a Venus Guy Trap
(Bernie’s really twisted).
I devised an animal
With a shiny golden horn,
Part Amazonian Manatee
And part unicorn.
And though I liked each creature’s,
Unique designs and deeds,
I think a little uni-tee
Is what this wide world needs.
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Optimist
Kindle Author Page
Ron Taylor is an optimist,
he’s bought a field of snow.
And now he’s hoping for a crop
of frozen peas to grow.
The Cat’s Meow
The Three Little Kittens were known for their mittens,
while Puss looked quite spiffy in boots.
There once was a cat recognized by his hat.
There are probably some that wear suits.
So why should it be, that my cat scratches me
every time that I help her to dress?
If she’d wear what I pick, she would look oh so slick,
each outfit a major success.
Last night brought more dramas. When offered pajamas
she put up a fight on my bed.
She spat and she hissed when I tried to insist,
then out of the bedroom she fled.
8 O’clock
I like how the lamp
takes a peek at my book.
If I hold it just right
we can both get a look.
Night is outside dripping
ink on the walk.
Inside my book, shady
characters talk.
Here comes a cat. He’s
unusually smug.
He turns around once,
blends into the rug.
I read him a sentence.
He scowls with one eye.
I won’t read him another.
Let sleeping cats lie.
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Jackie Hosking (that’s me)
What do you do?
When Grandma’s at home, sipping tea from her mug
And she feels all alone, by the fire, on the rug
And she desperately pines for a cuddly hug
Do you know what she does?
She calls me.
Cause when Grandma’s alone and in need of a hug
Then she picks up the phone that is next to her mug
And she says, ‘come around for a cuddly hug.’
And do you know what I do?
I say yes.
And I get on my bike and I pedal like mad
Cause there’s nothing quite like a hug that you’ve had
From a cuddly Grandma who’s lonely or sad
And that’s we do.
What do you do?
When little children go to sleep
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When little children go to sleep
All their toys begin to creep
Out of the toy box, out of the beds
Leaving children nodding their heads.
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Out in the moonlight, out in the night
Teddies and pandas. A magical sight!
A monkey, a dragon, a zebra, a duck.
A cute cuddly cat and even a truck.
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When children are sleeping, their toys are away
Out in the starlight as bright as day.
There’s a tiger, a rabbit, a doll dressed in blue
A dinosaur, soldier, and a brown kangaroo.
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They’re dancing and laughing, it really is fun
For toys to have parties when daylight is done.
But come the new morning when the sun start to rise
Tired but happy, the toys rub their eyes.
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Then softly, so softly on silent small toes
Homeward and homeward each little toy goes.
Back to the toy box, or back to the bed
To snuggle up close to a child’s sleepy head.
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Sole Mates
My feet are great, they’re just first-rate,
each one a match with its sole mate.
One left, one right, to take me places,
dance and jump and run fast races.
I’ve ten fine toes that like to twitch,
And they can reach to scratch knee itch.
When I stand tall on tippy toe—
Don’t need to wait until I grow.
The cake tin is within my reach
And then I scarper to the beach
To leap the waves that lap the shore.
I kick, sand-flick then race some more.
If every car and bus broke down
It wouldn’t stop me getting round,
For I’d still get from here to there,
My feet would take me everywhere.
Twitter: @TraffaM Facebook
Saylah Anne Weyer
This is the story of Saylah Anne Weyer.
Her Mom is a nurse and her Dad is a Flier.
Her brothers are Pirates. Her sister will share.
Her Grandma shampoos away all her gray hair.
Saylah Anne Weyer
While visiting Grandma’s house one summer day,
Saylah turned on the hose and then squirted away.
She squirted the flowers, the berries and dirt.
She squirted her feet, then her legs and her shirt.
She squirted the fence, then the sidewalk and toys.
She squirted the neighbors: first girls, and then boys.
She squirted at birds that were high in a tree.
Then Grandma said, “Saylah, don’t try squirting me.”
“Don’t worry,” said Saylah. “I’ll do this instead.”
She squirted her grandfather right in the head.
Her Mom started laughing at Papa’s wet hair.
Then Grandma fell giggling right out of her chair.
Her brothers were rolling all over the place.
And people were roaring at Papa’s drenched face.
But Saylah Anne Weyer did not laugh and shout
for Papa got mad and gave her a time-out.
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People say I’m growing
People say I’m growing but why can’t I feel me grow?
If people didn’t tell me then I really wouldn’t know.
I always feel the same size, though they buy me bigger clothes,
And they tell me that my head is getting further from my toes.
People say I’m growing. They say, ‘Look how big you’ve got!’
But I just cannot see it, so I tell them, ‘I have not!’
They tell me I look like my dad when he was very young,
Which is lucky ‘cause I wouldn’t if I had a different one.
People say I’m growing but I do not think it’s true,
For surely I’d remember every time I went and grew.
I wore a hat all day today to see if it got higher,
But it didn’t so I know that they are liars, liars, liars!
People say I’m growing and I think I might agree,
For today it is my birthday and I’m now a grown up three.
Perhaps I’m really growing, but I cannot say for sure,
So I’ll have another look next year when I am great big four.
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Ravenous
What delicacy
are you planning for tea?
I must say I’m feeling quite famished.
Fried brains with a sliver
of kidney and liver?
How funny! My appetite’s vanished.
At the Muzzaloo Store
At the muzzaloo store, there are crates of persnoobles,
Fresh-baked flobitzen and tazbees with jubles.
They’re stocking the shelves with the best alaprises,
Ungden and traffadoo (three different sizes!).
High on the shelf you’ll find melezoid dinkles,
The nice, silky, smooth kind without any wrinkles.
Jars filled with tomashes, wazzenloft, too.
Boxes of mooglehorns, yellow and blue.
Right down aisle 7, is where they keep japers —
Stacked, and wrapped neatly in pink tissue papers —
Mozenar, trums, castanoovas and more;
You’ll find all of this at the muzzaloo store!
Darren Sardelli
The Letter A
The letter A is awesome!
It simply is the best.
Without an A, you could not get
an A+ on a test.
You’d never see an acrobat
or eat an apple pie.
You couldn’t be an astronaut
or kiss your aunt goodbye.
An antelope would not exist.
An ape would be unknown.
You’d never hear a person
say “Afraid” or “All Alone”.
The A’s in avocado
would completely disappear
and certain words would be forgot
Published in The School Magazine (Australia)
like “ankle”, “arm”, and “ear”.
Without the A, you couldn’t aim
an arrow in the air.
You wouldn’t ask for apricots
or almonds at a fair.
Aruba and Australia
would be missing from a map.
You’d never use an ATM,
an apron, or an app.
The arctic fox and aardvark
would be absent from the zoo,
and vowels, as you know them,
would be E, I, O, and U.
There wouldn’t be an A chord
on the instruments you play.
Let’s appreciate, admire,
and applaud the letter A!
Angry
I was…
Click the cover to buy Joshua’s books
angry as a roaring lion,
angry as a swooping bat,
angry as a squawking parrot,
angry as a screeching cat,
angry as a hissing viper,
angry as a hopping frog,
angry as a big gorilla,
angry as a charging hog,
angry as a howler monkey,
angry as a barking mutt;
Yes I was very, VERY angry
when they said the zoo
was shut.
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Can you?
Can you jump, can you leap,
Can you shimmy and jiggle?
Skip around corners
Or wobble and wiggle?
Can you swing, can you swoop,
Can you soar through the sky?
Flitter and skitter
Or flutter and fly?
Can you stomp, can you stamp,
Can you slither and slide?
Squirm like a worm
Or hover and glide?
Can you step, can you stride,
Can you tumble and twirl?
Spin like a whirlwind
Or swagger and swirl?
Can you flip, can you flap,
Can you do a forward roll?
Jump rope, ski a slope
Or shoot for goal?
I can!
Twitter: @MeredithCostain
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Instruments of the rain
Listen
The rain goes plink on the wagon
…………….plonk on your head
……………………..plunk on the dirt
It goes slip off the petal tip
………….slap against the window pane
……………………………sloop down the gutter
It goes splish in the bird bat
…………….splash in the wading pool
……………………………sploosh in the fish pond
Don’t you love storm concerts?
Mister
Mister Emu
I see you
Ostrich-lik
Gray and white
Three-foot throat
A periscope?
Bamboo legs
Football eggs
Flightless wings
(Soft-feathered things)
Fast as a bunny
You’re curious, funny
Mister Emu
I see you—
You’re a clown!
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Hiding
Do you like to hide?
Sometimes I hide so well
I cannot even find myself –
and then I have to YELL!
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Quiet Days
On quiet days
When you are still
And listen with your heart
You can hear
A hush of sounds
And tell them all apart.
You can hear
In early fall
The echo of the owl’s call.
You can hear
Up in the trees
The whisper of the autumn breeze.
You can hear
Out in the dark
The endless plea of puppy’s bark.
You can hear
The distant train
Racing through the evening rain.
You can hear
Down by the shore
The thunder of the ocean roar.
You can hear
When passing by
The lonely seagull’s hungry cry.
You can hear
When winter blows
The silence of the falling snow.
You can hear
A hush of sounds
And tell them all apart
On quiet days
When you are still
And listen with your heart.
Celeste Walters
Lumps and Bumps
I’m lying in bed
with lumps and with bumps
I think I have mumps
the doctor said sadly
you do
still Grandma would read to me
sit on my bed
but
today she complained
of a pain in the head
now Granda has lumps and bumps too.
A Mother Bird’s Song
I’ll gather silver cobwebs
with soft mosses for my nest,
and keep my chicks all safe at night
hugged in my feathered breast
I’ll spend all hours hunting
caterpillars in the leaves
to answer every peep
and open beak all saying please
I ‘ll show them how to preen
when they start feathering,
teach them pride in who they are
so they’ll know how to sing
I’ll help them try their wings,
climb the air and learn to fly,
so one day the wind will take them,
to be free as song and sky.
Thanks everyone – just wonderful.
Below are links to poems from OMTB poets who have their own blogs….
One Minute Till Bedtime is now available in the US wherever books are sold, including:
Amazon.com
BarnesandNoble.com
Indiebound.com
It is also available for purchase now in Australia:
Booktopia
QBD
In the UK, it will be available on December 8, 2016:
Amazon.co.uk
Waterstones
W.H. Smith
Q: When I go to the bookstore or library for market research, I see a lot of rhyming picture books on the shelves. Kids love picture books that rhyme, obviously. But a lot of editors and agents say that they don’t want rhyming picture book submissions from writers. Why?
You’ll note however that nearly two years past by before I was offered a contract and in that time I wrote many, many picture books, none quite what she was looking for until the one that was. This was a tricky time, one in which I had to remind myself to enjoy the journey. I knew there was no guarantees of publication but I also knew that the surest way of not being published was to not try, so I kept on trying. I also continued to submit other work elsewhere and I think this is very important to help keep one’s spirits up. All successes must be celebrated big and small so to follow my own advice here is a little gallery of things that I’ve achieved since attending my first KidLit Vic conference back in 2016.
Tip 4 is especially useful as it lists what publishers have to say about writing in rhyme.
