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23.01.2022 A Poem by Aunty Ange called A Dog In A Shop A Dog in a Shop Whispered to me Please Stop Hop on my back and we can go out for tea... After that I’ll come to your home You can call me Jerome I am shaped like a sasauge I don’t run very fast In fact I can’t run at all I was frozen in stone and turned into a bench So when you call me to move I can hear but can’t groove I am capable of love just like all dogs If you put in a pond I’ll commune with the frogs And feel free to sit on my back It won’t crack I promise to protect your garden and any flowers What do you think? Before you blink And walk away One more thing was all I wanted to say If you take me home I know it will make your day!! See more



19.01.2022 What happens when you sleep? A poem by Aunty Ange What happens when you sleep? Does your mind creep off while your body seeps into your mattress?... Do your fingers twitch waiting for the light to switch from darkness to brightness? To put away your night dress for another day of Play! And what about the dreams you had. Were you able to talk to dad, or mum about the plum pudding you ate with custard and strawberries. What a taste, all night long. You didn't just have one piece did you? And your trip on the ferry over rough seas taking in the breeze. What does happen when you sleep? Are your dreams real? Or is your mind tricking you to steal thoughts that don't belong to you. Are you a thief while you sleep? What is your belief?

14.01.2022 The Wolves of Willoughby Chase by Joan Aiken Video 2

12.01.2022 I've rewritten this poem for you, to make it better: And so the morning goes like this Lick your lips Have some breakfast... Have some tea Sit in the sun and bask with glee Water the plants Make them look pretty And next listen out For a beautiful butterfly, just might Whisper in your ear You can fly you know You have wings, it speaks You can float and grow yourself a sky boat And disappear into the air And because it does not float on water You don’t have to get wet You can take pets on the sky boat Anything cute and fluffy is allowed I only ask one thing Cuddle me Let me eat out of your plate On the sky boat there are no rules The sky’s gate it open you know Let’s go along Come on, Pack your bag No time to be sad We can always fly back We can We can take the boat home The voyage is quick in the sky boat They’ll have us back by morning tea Where we can lick our lips Once again And sip delicious hot chocolate And eat muffins And get on with the rest of our day Full of play What do you say? See more



11.01.2022 I've written this poem for you And so the morning goes like this Lick your lips Have some breakfast... Have some tea Sit in the sun and bask with glee Water the plants Make them look pretty And next listen out For a beautiful butterfly just might Whisper in your ear You can fly you know You have wings, it speaks You can float and grow yourself a sky boat that floats in air and not on water And you don’t have to get wet You can take pets on the sky boat because pets and cute and fluffy and they don’t make a noise if you cuddle them and let them eat out of your plate The gate it open You can come along Pack your bag Will you be sad to leave? Perhaps But you can always come back You can You can take the boat home The stone is not cast You can have it all You can catch the ball of prosperity and throw it around so that others can catch it too And the prosperity goes round The sound of prosperity is about laughter and tears and healing and possibility That’s the sound! The voyage is quick in the sky boat We’ll have you back by morning tea Where you can lick your lips again And sip delicious hot chocolate And eat muffins And get on with the rest of your day Full of play What do you say? See more

11.01.2022 This is one of my favourite children's books, The Wolves of Willoughby Chase by Joan Aiken. I hope you love it as much as I do.

10.01.2022 https://www.amazon.com/Wolves-Willoughby-Chas//ref=sr_1_1



09.01.2022 The Wolves of Willoughby Chase by Joan Aiken read by Aunty Ange Video 5

07.01.2022 Long before I wrote stories, I listened for stories. Listening for them is something more acute than listening to them. I suppose it’s an early form of participation in what goes on. Listening children know stories are there. When their elders sit and begin, children are just waiting and hoping for one to come out, like a mouse from its hole. Eudora Welty, One Writer's Beginnings

05.01.2022 Some Silly Jokes Q: Why do bananas have to put on sunscreen before they go to the beach? A: Because they might peel! Q: Why couldn't the pony sing himself a lullaby?... A: He was a little hoarse. See more

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