Friday, 27 September 2013

Tyrannosaurus Paul... The nicest herbivore

Tyrannosaurus Rex, the fiercest of the beasts
Liked nothing better on his plate
Than a juicy piece of meat

For breakfast, he'd have sausage
A burger or two for lunch
Big rump steak for dinner
Any meat that he could munch

Tyrannosaurus Rex had a brother they called Paul
And he had a little problem...
He wasn't a carnivore

For breakfast, lunch or dinner
What he didn't like to eat
Was a sausage, burger or steak
Not any kind of meat

He liked a bowl of fruit, perhaps a light omelette
Some tomatoes and a cucumber
Or a lovely warm crumpet

Tyrannosaurus Paul just wasn't understood
Being the only herbivore
In the whole big neighbourhood

All the local diners
And restaurants across the town
Served nothing green upon the plate
Just meat that's red and brown

Anything that moved
Across the fields and plains
Was eaten by the dinosaurs
Till nothing left remained

No wild beasts to eat
All eaten or run away
All the scary dinosaurs
Grew hungrier by the day

Nothing for their breakfast
Nor anything for lunch or tea
They were getting rumbles
Deep down in their bellies
But Tyrannosaurus Paul had more than he could eat
His garden full of vegetables
Could feed the whole big street

Cooking in his kitchen
Smells wafting out the door
Neighbours following their noses
Came to see tyrannosaurus Paul

Seeing they were hungry, he invited them to lunch
Noodles with a stirfry
Fresh carrots that had crunch

For afters a fruit salad
All drenched in fresh yoghurt
Sprinkled with a dash of mint
And honey they could squirt

The dinosaurs all scoffed it
Asking for seconds on their plate
And they realised not eating greens
Had been a big mistake

All his friends and family
still like to eat their meat
But adding fruit and vegetables
Now makes their plate complete

For breakfast they’ll have waffles
A ceasar salad for their lunch
Chicken and veg for dinner
A balanced meal they can munch

And Tyrannosaurus Paul?
Well he’s still a herbivore
But now he gets to eat with friends
As they’re all omnivores!

Saturday, 22 June 2013

What if planes had feathers spread along their wings...

What if planes had feathers
Spread along their wings
Would their engines roar
Or would they whistle and sing

Would they land upon a tree
And stop there for a while
A treehouse for an airport
Making passengers smile

Do they take off on their feet
Rather than their wheels
A hop, skip and a great big jump
Making passengers squeal

Where would everyone sit?
Maybe riding on their back..
Holding tight onto their hats
While eating airline snacks

What about the pilots
How would they fly that plane?
Riding up behind the head
Pulling left and right with reins

Stopping for a fill up
No jet fuel for this plane
Just a bag of seeds and nuts
Before setting off again

Travelling the seven continents
Upon a large majestic bird
Soaring on up through the sky
Is it really so absurd

Rather than metal bodies
And steel bolts and springs
Wouldn't it be nice if planes
Had feathers on their wings

(c) Mark Sage 2013

Sunday, 28 April 2013


What's that lurking deep in my coat pocket
It's sticky and yucky, I don't wanna touch it
Covered in fluff
It's really sticky stuff
But tastes like a pear drop so may as well suck it

What's that lurking deep inside my bag
Was it something that I ate, it's making me gag
Shall I ignore
The rotten apple core
Or pop to the shops to buy another bag

What's that lurking underneath my bed?
A simple cup of milk... Now filling me with dread
Green and slimy
Why does it scare me?
Hide it back away… let mum find it instead

What's that lurking deep inside my ear
Mum says cabbages could grow where I hear
Shall I dig it out?
Plant a Brussel sprout?
Or stick it to my finger to see the girls fear

What's that lurking underneath my shirt
Peaking from my belly button… senses are alert
Did it crawl inside
Hitching a free ride
Or is it just fluff and hair, all wrapped up with dirt!

What's that lurking in-between my toes
I saw it there yesterday; I'm sure that it grows
Wipe it on my finger
Let the smell just linger
A dark and musty scent going up my nose

Sunday, 3 March 2013

Wednesday, 27 February 2013

What hides in the dark…

Sent to bed, with a kiss and cuddle
Climbing the stairs, his head all a muddle

It’s dark at the top, four steps to his room
Light switch on the wall; hidden in gloom

What lies in the darkness, his mind playing tricks
Is there a monster in there, or an evil old witch

Running back down, he lands in mums lap
There’s a monster upstairs, and he’s taking a nap
If I walk in the room, he’ll awake from his sleep
It’ll be me for his dinner, it’ll be me that he eats

“There no such thing, monsters aren’t real”
Nothing is there to make you his meal

I’ll take you upstairs and switch on your light
You’ll see nothings there, it's all alright

Climbing the stairs, making a noise
The monster gets scared, and hides with the toys

Tucking him in, getting ready for sleep
Mum says “Sweet dreams.. not another peep”
Off with the light and closing the door
It’s dark now in here… but he can just see the floor

In the dark shadows, is something there…
Something is moving, something covered in hair

Frozen in bed, not wanting to move
He senses it skulking, down by his shoes

He shouts out load, calling for mum
There’s a monster in here, can you please come!

Checking his room, opening doors
Under the bed, till there’s nothing more
His mum reassures him, “They don’t exist!”
“No monster in here, nothings been missed!”

Leaving the room, the door now ajar
A little light shining, so he now sees afar

Inside his shoe, a head pops out
A scary little head with a big fat mouth

Sharp scary teeth, they could chew through rock
But stuffed in his mouth… the little boys sock

Plucking up courage he stammers to the beast
“A.A.A.Are you eating my sock, is it some kind of feast?”
Errrmm… yes says the monster, I’m sorry to say
I’ve eaten your sock, I eat at least one a day

“My Sock?” says the boy, “So you won’t eat me?”
“NO!!!”, says the monster, “Only socks for my tea!”

There’s nothing to be scared off, we all eat socks
Except for Big Fred… he prefers frocks!

We like them well worn, a good day or two
Real nice and cheesy, between me and you

Oh, that explains it the little boy cries
One socks always missing when hung out to dry
Mum says I’ve lost it, she always blames me
Now I know where it’s gone, it’s in your belly

So now that you know, monsters are really true
But it’s your socks that they want; it’s not really you

There’s no point explaining or telling someone
They still won’t believe you… even your mum

But at least you’ll be safe… there’s nothing to shock
Monsters don’t hurt you, they just want your socks

Saturday, 12 January 2013

A Monster Called Jack

Jack was a monster
Who lived in monster land
He looked like me and you
With two legs, two arms and hands

But Jack was not the same
For right upon his head
Where two eyes should have lived
He had three there instead

The other monsters ran
When they saw him from afar
For two eyes is ok
But three is just bazaar

The first eye could look left
The other to the right
But the one right in the centre
Could see everything at night

Now Jack would go to school
But not the way you do
He'd hide in a dark cupboard
And no one had a clue

He'd listen to the teacher
Reading all his books
Using his middle eye
To see in his dark nook

When the sun went down
He'd play some little games
Hiding in the shadows
But playing all the same

Wishing he had friends
Who he could play with too
Someone to throw a ball
Someone just like you

Then one day it all changed
When Jack helped save the day
Using his monster talents
In his very special way

For there were many monsters
And some were pretty big
In fact some were humongous
Especially one called Zig

Zig was bigger than Jack
And bigger than a tree
In fact Zig was so ginormous
He could drink a whole blue sea

One day he was feeling hungry
And spied Jack's little town
He saw his little school
And gulped it all straight down

Sitting in Zigs belly
The school was all pitch black
But one little monster could see
That monsters name was Jack

He climbed out from his cupboard
While Zig was having a doze
And climbed up from his tummy
So he could tickle Zigs nose

Now when Zig felt the tickle
He had a sneeze attack
And said ACHHOOO!!! so loudly
That he sent the school right back

Jack become a hero
For helping save the school
And all the other monsters said
"Jack, you really are quite cool"

Now Jack still goes to school
But he doesn't hide away
Instead he sits right at the front
As no one runs away

He's still a little monster
With three eyes upon his head
But no ones scared of how he looks
And they play with him instead

(c) Mark Sage 2013
Illustrated by Heath Sage

Saturday, 5 January 2013

Dads Travels

Dads gone off in a great big plane
He's got meetings and people to see
Being away for the whole of the week
Just sounds so boring to me

I imagine he's flying to Africa
Where lions and zebras roam free
Perhaps he's out riding elephants
Or eating fat bugs for his tea

Or maybe going to where its so cold
Heading north, straight to the Pole
Fighting off big white polar bears
And fishing for food through a hole

He could be a spy chasing down Mr Big
With speedboats and flying cars
Drinking fruit smoothie, shaken not stirred
While saving the world from a-far

What if he's hunting for treasure
Hidden by pirates somewhere
Finding chests full of diamonds and gold
And a pirate hat that I can wear

Or he could be searching for dinosaurs
In deepest, darkest Brazil
Bringing me back a T-Rex egg
Which we hatch on my window sill

Maybe he's a great astronaut
Flying to space in a rocket
Helping to fix the space station
With his hammer, screwdriver and socket

Climbing the highest mountain
Reaching the very peak
Trekking up and down Everest
Can he do that in just a week?

Can't wait till he back from his travels
For all the stories he'll tell
But most of all i'll just miss him
And he misses me as well

Wednesday, 2 January 2013

Archie the Dinosaur

Hatched from an egg, his mom and dad smiled
Our little boy, now out in the wild

A sharp pointy tail, long skinny neck
Legs made for running, a beak that can peck

Learning to speak, he asked them one day
“What is my name?” so his mum began to say

It starts with “ar-kee”
Followed by an “or”
With a “Nith-uh” in the middle
And a “my-mus” that we roar

Put it all together
Repeat after us
This is your name…

About to go to school, with new friends to make
The thought of telling them his name, was keeping him awake

Could he remember what to say, would he get it all out
Would he stutter or stammer? He was having doubts

Pondering on his name, it felt a little long
The only way to remember, was to sing the little song

It starts with “ar-kee”
Followed by an “or”
With a “Nith-uh” in the middle
And a “my-mus” that we roar

Put it all together
Repeat after us
This is my name…

Calling out their names, checking that they’re there
Teacher running down the list, checking the register

Getting to his name, she stops for a minute
Working out what to say, not sure how to say it

Putting up his hand, he says “Can I help miss?”
It’s easy to remember, when you say it like this

It starts with “ar-kee”
Followed by an “or”
With a “Nith-uh” in the middle
And a “my-mus” that we roar

Put it all together
Repeat after us
This is my name…

Another little boy, sitting just behind
Said my names pretty long, people tend to find

My name’s Tyrannosaurus, Tyrannosaurus Rex
Most people just shorten it, they find it too complex

If we find a shorter version, you can say it very quick
People will start to use it and you’ll find that it’ll stick

If it starts with “ar-kee”
Followed by an “or”
With a “Nith-uh” in the middle
And a “my-mus” that we roar

Then taking just the start
And ignoring all the rest
We can just call you Archie
That’ll work the best

(C) Mark Sage 2013

Is it Morning Time?

A little boy stirred in his bed
His room was quiet and bright
Was it time to get out of bed?
It looked like warm sunlight

Climbing out of his bed
And creeping down the hall
His mum and dad were still asleep
So he knocked upon their door

Mum, dad, it’s morning time, can we get up now and play
Go back to bed, it’s 4 o’clock, it’s too early to start the day

The little boy opened his curtains
And saw all the birds a chatter
This must be the dawn chorus, when
Our feathered friends all have a natter 

Turning his head to see him
A bird said with a smile on his face
Nobody normally joins us
Welcome to our special place

Mum, dad, it’s morning time, can we get up now and play
Go back to bed, it’s 5 o’clock, it’s too early to start the day

The little boy went to the garden
To see what else he could do
He noticed a newly spun spider’s web
All freshly covered in dew

Water drops sparkling like diamonds
A home woven like lace
The spider looked up from her breakfast
And said welcome to my special place

Mum, dad, it’s morning time, can we get up now and play
Go back to bed, it’s 6 o’clock, it’s too early to start the day

Sneaking across the lawn
A fox was just going to bed
Giving the boy a wink of his eye
He said come follow me instead

The fox had a den in the garden
A warm and inviting space
A little fox cub came up to the boy
And said welcome to our special place

Mum, dad, it’s morning time, can we get up now and play
Go back to bed, it’s 7 o’clock, it’s too early to start the day

Looking into the sky
The little boy noticed the moon
Sitting there right next to the sun
As if they were in the same room

Staring hard at the bright moon
He thought he could see a mans face
The man in the moon turned and gave him grin
And said welcome to our special place

Mum, dad, it’s morning time, can we get up now and play
Yes we can, it’s 8 o’clock, the perfect time to start the day

He thought back to all his adventures
And the friends he had met in the day
He knew the perfect time to get out of bed
But he wasn’t about to say

Not sure if his parents were joking
He jumped on the bed just in case
He snuggled up with his mum and dad
And whispered this is my special place

(c) Mark Sage, 2013

Tuesday, 1 January 2013

Did you see what's there?

Walking to town, a hole in the fence
What lies behind is a real suspense
Peering through, I see a tail of fluff
Big fat cheeks, with food they're stuffed

Short furry coat all coloured in red
Two little ears on top of his head
Eating a nut which I think was a hazel
The little red animal says he's a squirrel

Mom, dad, do you see what's there
But they're too busy, they don't seem to care
Rushing by, we're on our way
They'll have to wait till another day

Up in the trees I heard two birds sing
With little red faces and bright yellow wings
They told of a tale of their winter away
Flying to Spain for a lovely warm stay

Back for the summer, they found a small patch
Laying five little eggs now ready to hatch
Singing to me from their nest in the branches
The small little birds said they're goldfinches

Mom, dad, do you see what's there
But they're too busy, they don't seem to care
Rushing by, we're on our way
They'll have to wait till another day

Over the bridge with a river below
I lean over the wall to see its strong flow
Up from the water a head pops out
Little webbed feet, a fish in his mouth

Back on the bank we have a quick natter
And dropping the fish he says he's an otter
Spending the day in the river having fun
To his house called a holt the otter did run

Mom, dad, do you see what's there
But they're too busy, they don't seem to care
Rushing by, we're on our way
They'll have to wait till another day

On a grassy green bank I lift up a stone
And spy underneath a creature alone
Four little legs with four little toes
A light coloured belly with an orangey glow

Blinking his eyes in the newly bright light
He says with a yawn "I only play at night"
With velvety skin he looks sleepy and cute
And having a stretch, he says he's a newt

Mom, dad, do you see what's there
But they're too busy, they don't seem to care
Rushing by, we're on our way
They'll have to wait till another day

On the way back from a day at the shops
There's no rush now, so we can stop
I show all the animals I saw on the way
The newt, the birds and the otter at play

On to the squirrel who's down by the tree
He picks up some hazelnuts, one, two and three
Spying us all, he throws them into the air
And juggles the nuts while we stand and stare

Mom, dad, do you see what's there
Yes they say as they stand and stare
Taking a bow and with a wink of his eye
He says "next time you'll look as you walk by"

(C) Mark Sage 2013

Bottom Burp!

Breakfast time, stopping at nans
No Coco Pops, there's only All Bran
Covered in milk in a bright yellow bowl
I fill up my tum before heading to school

Sitting in  class my tummy does a gurgle
Breakfast is moving making me giggle
Something is rumbling down below
I need to get out before it can blow

Crossing my legs I keep it inside
The feeling soon fades; what a rough ride!
The rest of the day, I'll watch what I slurp
I really don't need a big bottom burp!

Lunchtime at school, I go into the hall
Bean stew for lunch, that's not a good call
Eating it all I know I'm in trouble
Feeling it hit, my belly starts to bubble

Wanting dessert I have to stay where I am
Then I find out its treacle tart with prune jam
Covered in cream I clear every last spoon
But something is brewing as I digest the prune

Crossing my legs I keep it inside
The feeling soon fades; what a rough ride!
The rest of the day, I'll watch what I slurp
I really don't need a big bottom burp!

End of the day and school is no more
My belly's still rumbling so I'm out of the door
Running back home I hear my mum shout
"Dinner is ready, it's meat, peas and sprouts"

If my tummy was bad before all of this
It'll totally explode when all those sprouts hit
I try eating slowly but that doesn't work
My belly is shaking, it's dying to burp!

Crossing my legs I try to keep it inside
But the feeling wont fade, this is a rough ride!
I try to get up and run out of the room
But it is to late and my bottom goes boom!

Seconds pass by and it's a bit of a haze
My parents are sitting there still in a daze
The table has gone, the dog is now bald
The back of my trousers has a big hole!

The neighbours all heard it and came to the door
And were very surprised with the gap in the wall
Then the smell hit and they all held their noses
That bottom burps bad, it doesn't  smell of roses!

(C) Mark Sage 2013


Theres an itch in my nose I give it a tickle
That's more than an itch, now this is a pickle
There something there, it's hard and crusty
I know this feeling, it a great big bogie!

Sitting in class there's kids all around
It has to come out, it's now making a sound
Singing like a whistle with every snort
I cant get it here, we'll have to abort

Raising my hand I ask for the toilet
Teachers not sure, "are you really desperate"
Fighting the urge to pluck it out there
I pretend I can't hold it and start shaking the chair

Thinking me ready to pee on the floor
Teacher sends me running out of the door
Can't wait any longer, I need it out
Its gonna be a big one, of that there's no doubt

Into my nose a long finger slides
There I can feel it, stuck fast to the side
Delving in deep my nail gets a grip
I tug it and pull it  in the hope it'll slip

But it wont budge, this stubborn piece of mucus
Going to have delve deeper and give it some focus
Using my thumb I give it a flick
And finally to bogie begins to unstick

Coming behind I hear teachers footsteps
Oh no this isn't good,  I've had no time to prep
The bogie in hand I have to get rid
I can't really tell teacher what I just did

No hankie in pocket or toilet close by
There only one option I have left to try
Slipping my thumb into my mouth
I scoop off the bogie and swallow it south

Thinking me finished I'm sent back to class
And I give a big grin as I'm walking past
The teacher doesn't really know why I am smilin'
But it's just because my bogie tastes like chicken

(C) Mark Sage 2013

Snow Day

Open the curtains, snow on the ground
A picture of winter, whiteness abounds
Pulling on boots, wrapped up tight
Air clean and crisp, sky clear and bright

Making some footsteps, the first in the snow
No visible footpaths, which way shall we go
Making patterns, walking around
Everything’s sleeping, can’t hear a sound

Woohoo it’s a snow day, what games shall we play
Jack Frost has been busy, how long will he stay
We have to get out, get into the snow
For tomorrows too late, and it may just all go

Forming a ball, from fresh white snow
Pushing it round, watching it grow
Bigger and bigger, keep going while we can
This ball is the body for a big snowman

Putting him together, we just can’t stop
A big round body, a snow head on the top
Finding some twigs, for arms they will do
A carrot for his nose, stone eyes, one and two.

Grabbing the sledge, heading to the hill
Looking for fun, looking for a thrill
First on the slope, a clear run of snow
Sliding down fast, as fast as it’ll go

More come and join us with all manner of rides
From tin trays to plastic; anything that slides
Everyone’s running to get up some speed
The slides getting faster, getting faster indeed

The first one hits hard, showering me with snow
The second one is fast, but now I do know
Ducking and diving, running for cover
Gathering snow, ready for another

Forming a large ball, using the snow
Taking aim and ready to throw
Arm right back, launching into the air
It lands with a crash, covering their hair

Building the walls from snow all around
Forming a circle that’s perfectly round
Higher and higher the snow walls do go
Everyone’s helping, helping it grow

Cutting a hole for a window or two
Making a door that we can squeeze through
We’re building a house, a house with a view
It’s coming together, our little Igloo

Heading back home, all tuckered out
Pulling our sledges, still snow all about
Legs are so tried the trip back is slow
Gloves are all wet from our play in the snow

Cheeks are all glowing; feet are like ice
Even two pairs of socks just didn’t suffice
Still smiles on our faces; it’s been real fun
With snow on the ground, who needs the sun

Woohoo it’s a snow day, what games we did play
Jack Frost had been busy, we’re so glad he stayed
Now back into the house where it’s cosy and warm
Hot chocolate in hand, watching snow fall

(C) Mark Sage 2013