I Hate Train Stations
By Puppy
I was sitting on the comic shelf,
Reading Jeff Smith’s ‘Bone’,
When suddenly I looked around,
And saw I was alone.
My mummy had her rusksack on,
But I was not inside.
She’d gone to catch the choo choo train,
To go on a long ride.
I did a little rattle,
And then a little hop,
To try and get attention
From the owner of the shop.
Eventually a lady came
And took me to a room.
She put a label on my paw
And left me in the gloom
Of a cupboard, for a little while-
I think I waited days-
For somebody to let me out
And banish my malaise.
And just when I resigned myself
To always feeling glum,
The lady took me out again
And said, ‘we found your mum!’
My label got updated,
With who I was and when
My mummy would collect me,
And take me home again.
It felt like years I waited,
But then my mummy came.
If I could cry I would have-
My mummy felt the same.
I did a little rattle,
And then a little hop;
I cuddled up to mummy,
And I will never stop.
Bears
If any person were to stare at you
with such intent fixation,
you would be unnerved.
But these eyes gaze so calmly,
peering out from their fuzzy-nosed faces,
that you cannot bear
to leave them un-hugged.
And that is where the magic starts;
their fur dissolves your tears,
absorbing the sadness and locking it away
inside them. But they do not feel it,
and it will not leak out.
It is not a burden for them to bear
your secrets, but an honour.
Copyright © 2017 Sarah Askew
By Puppy
I was sitting on the comic shelf,
Reading Jeff Smith’s ‘Bone’,
When suddenly I looked around,
And saw I was alone.
My mummy had her rusksack on,
But I was not inside.
She’d gone to catch the choo choo train,
To go on a long ride.
I did a little rattle,
And then a little hop,
To try and get attention
From the owner of the shop.
Eventually a lady came
And took me to a room.
She put a label on my paw
And left me in the gloom
Of a cupboard, for a little while-
I think I waited days-
For somebody to let me out
And banish my malaise.
And just when I resigned myself
To always feeling glum,
The lady took me out again
And said, ‘we found your mum!’
My label got updated,
With who I was and when
My mummy would collect me,
And take me home again.
It felt like years I waited,
But then my mummy came.
If I could cry I would have-
My mummy felt the same.
I did a little rattle,
And then a little hop;
I cuddled up to mummy,
And I will never stop.
Bears
If any person were to stare at you
with such intent fixation,
you would be unnerved.
But these eyes gaze so calmly,
peering out from their fuzzy-nosed faces,
that you cannot bear
to leave them un-hugged.
And that is where the magic starts;
their fur dissolves your tears,
absorbing the sadness and locking it away
inside them. But they do not feel it,
and it will not leak out.
It is not a burden for them to bear
your secrets, but an honour.
Copyright © 2017 Sarah Askew