Paul Cosway

THE TEACHER ANGELS

Mummy, I’ve a question

Tell me the answer do –

Are there teacher angels in Heaven?

I think it must be true!

Or who’d teach the baby angels

How to take away and add?

Who will test the little angels

And mark them good or bad?

Who will teach the little angels

To recognise their names?

Who’ll help them learn the rules

For all the spelling games?

Who’ll teach the three times tables

That three times two is six?

And tell them to be quiet

And put their fingers on their lips?

Who’ll stand them in the corner

When they don’t do as they’re told?

And give them stickers when they’re good

Of silver and of gold?

Who’ll play the piano

When they’ve got hymns to sing?

And at the end of playtime

Ring a bell to bring them in?

Mummy I’ve thought it out

And I think it’s pretty clear –

Are there teacher angels in Heaven?

I don’t think so, dear.

A TODDLER DREAMS…

Where do you go to, my precious,

When you’re tucked up in your bed?

As those little eyelids flicker

What dreams stream through your head?

Are you flying on a broomstick,

With a witch who’s lost her hat?

Sweeping through the fluffy clouds

With a frog, a dog, and a cat?

Are you helping to fill her cauldron

Many weird spells to brew?

Is that where you’ve gone, my munchkin,

Was there room on her broom for you?

Or are you riding, riding.

With the wicked highway rat,

With boots, a mask, and a sword

And a black, triangular hat?

Cling fast to the horse, my precious,

Don’t let go of the rein,

As you steal all those yummy cakes

From the travellers on the lane…

Or are you deep in the forest,

Collecting sticks and stones,

To fight the mighty Gruffalo

Who wants to chew your bones?

Does the cunning fox tempt you

To visit his underground house?

Do you face up to him bravely

Like the small brown mouse?

Or are you in your tiny boat

Sailing the seas afar,

Travelling to the island

Where all the Wild Things are?

But the sun will rise, my munchkin,

Sail over the paper sea,

And when you wake in the morning

Come safely back to me!

A FIELD OF SUNFLOWERS

Rows and rows of soldiers

Count them one by one,

Watch them lift their golden heads

And follow the golden sun.

Helmets of yellow petals,

Face of dark brown beads

Here’s our sunflower army –

Here is what it needs:
 

Soil to give it goodness

And a firm base for its roots,

Rain to give it moisture

To feed its thirsty shoots,

Bees to buzz around it

With acrobatic grace,

And most of all the sunshine

To warm its sunlike face.

Rows and rows of soldiers

Count them one by one,

Watch them lift their golden heads

And follow the golden sun.

From their golden petals,

From their golden seeds,

Comes the golden sunflower oil

Our hungry world to feed.

EARLY TO BED

I lie in bed at night and the velvet black

Strokes my arms and head and back,

And cars that pass, their headlights gleam

Through my curtains and windowpane,

And their long fingers of moonlight white

Smear across my walls this creepy night,

And though I’m brave, big breaths I take, 

And hug my teddy so he won’t shake.

I hold my breath and listen hard

For some sound from my mum and dad. 

They’re downstairs I’m almost certain,

That’s where I left them, closing the curtain.

‘Come on, dear, it’s time for bed,’

Were the words to me they said.

They’ll come up soon I’m sure they will,

But why is the house so cold…so still?

No – there’s a creak – was that a groan?

Was that the wind…or perhaps a moan?

Sounds like the cry of the too long dead

And I pull the covers over my head…
 

Then at last I hear them come,

Up the stairs, first dad, then mum,

The whispered voice I know so well,

It’s such a comfort, I cannot tell.

A gentle touch, a kiss goodnight, 

I pretend to sleep, my eyes shut tight.

And now I know they’re safe and near,

I whisper into teddy’s ear,

‘You silly bear…now you sleep tight!

I told you it would be all right!’

THE SONG OF THE DOLPHIN

Dolphin,

More liquid than the water

Through which you move.

As you perform your tricks, how do you feel?

Fluent, fluid swimmer

With muscles of blue grey steel, you seem to laugh and smile…

Have you heard the rumour 

That you’re the only sea mammal

With a fishy sense of humour?

In the depths of the sea

You are a lord.

What do you really think

Of the humans that applaud?

And as you dip and dive, dive down

Deep, deep, too deep for tears

Does the saltwater sting your eyes

And remind you of your fears,

As you sing sad songs to lost dolphin loves

Who found their final rest

Trapped in the tangled terror

Of a fishing boat’s nets?

This next poem was written about a cat who chased a mouse and accidentally killed it…

THE THINGS WE LOVE

The cat stretches, yawns,

Licks its paws and paws its face

And in a move

That in its smooth, sinewy grace

Has no beginning and no end

Rises and prowls

Looking for its friend, its friend of yesterday

With whom it chased and pounced and leapt in play.
 

Teasing, waiting,

Stalking, baiting

Led to the excitement of the chase:

Push paw, slash and miss,

The rush of blood, the silent hissss…

The chase over,

The racing done, 

The pleasure of a game well won…

But now she seeks her friend in vain.

Frustrated, tired, she naps again.

Like her mistress, master,

Woman, man,

Despite herself 

She must the maxim prove:

We all destroy the thing we love.