Mr. Woggle’s Tales- Monty’s Big Day

Mr Woggle

Mr Woggle

Mr. Woggle is an ostrich,
Tall and wise and old,
And all day long he can be found,
Writing stories to be told.
And when the school day is over,
And all homework is done,
The children gather by his favourite tree,
All of the children, yes, everyone.
Four o’clock is story time,
As all the children know…
Come on Mr. Woggle tell us a story…
Ready…. steady…. Go….

‘Monty’s Big Day’.

Today is Monty’s birthday,
Listen closely, hear him say,
“If it’s my birthday, this day is mine,
This is my special day.”
But what really makes the day special?
The presents? The food? The drinks?
Well, let’s hear this tale about Monty,
And then tell me what you all think.

Monty the elephant is seven today.
“You’re a big boy now” Mummy says.
And with that she gives her boy a cuddle
And a little kiss on his head.
“I hope you are enjoying your party,”
Says Mummy, “all of your friends are here”.
Monty answers, “This is the best birthday,
now where are the presents, mummy tell me where”.

The cake had been cut already,
Guests had sung ‘Happy Birthday’ and such,
So Mummy said he could open his presents,
And he liked each special gift very much.
But after unwrapping each of the parcels,
Monty began to look all around,
He knew that there was a box missing,
One which just could not be found.

‘Is there something wrong Monty darling?”
Asked Monty’s Grandmother with a small smile,
“You look like you’ve lost something precious,
Now what have you lost my dear child.”
“Well Granny you see,” began Monty,
“There’s something I saw yesterday,
I saw it and straight away I loved it,
I saw it although it was packed far away”.

“It wasn’t that I was snooping,
It wasn’t that I was bad,
It just happens I saw this one parcel,
And when I saw it I was so glad”.
“Inside were skates oh so shiny,
With colours of red, blue and green,
With the smallest and blackest of spinning wheels,
They were the most wonderful skates I had ever seen”.

“And straight away I got excited,
Because I knew these skates were for me,
Although I do not know who had bought them,
You, Mummy or Daddy”.
“But I knew that they would make my birthday,
The best birthday that I had ever had,
But Granny I can not find the wonderful skates,
And Granny, I want them so bad”.

Granny looked down at Monty disappointed,
And slowly she shook her wise head,
“Now Monty, you said you were not snooping,
Monty, isn’t that what you said?
I am having trouble believing that,
As those skates were hidden so deep,
Monty were you in my room peeping?
Monty did you go there and peep?”

Monty seemed to want to say something,
Granny asked “Have you something to say?”,
He began “Yes Granny, I was snooping,
But I was just so excited about today.
It was wrong, and for that I am sorry,
I did something I should not have done,
I hope that you are not too angry.
I’m sorry for the wrong that I’ve done.”

Granny looked down at Monty smiling,
“I accept your apology my sweet boy,
Now run along and have some fun,
On this wonderful day of great joy.
But there are no more gifts for you today,
As those skates are not yours Monty dear,
I bought those skates especially,
For your baby sister – St. Clair”.

St. Claire was surprised to hear this,
She asked‘ “You really bought something for me?
But it’s not even my birthday.
Oh wow Granny, I am so lucky”.
Granny handed the box with the skates to her,
A big smile spread across her face,
She took her time and put them on,
Then started skating at a slow pace.

Suddenly Mummy realized that Monty was missing,
She and Granny looked all around.
In the house, in the yard, they looked everywhere,
But Monty just could not be found.
Then suddenly mummy saw a small shadow,
Moving between the tall coconut trees,
And slowly mummy walked over,
To see what was wrong with Monty.

“Why did you suddenly leave the party?’
Mummy asked when she reached by his side.
“Because I’m not feeling very happy,
Monty quietly replied.
“But Monty, today is your birthday,
And you seemed to be having lots of fun.
Why did you leave the party?
Please tell me, Monty what’s wrong.”

The little elephant started,
“Well today is my special day.
So shouldn’t I get all of the presents?”
Monty began to say.
“All the other gifts were really nice,
And the party has been so much fun.
But why did St. Claire get the skates mummy?,
All the presents should be mine, every one”.

Mummy looked into his eyes very deeply,
And let out a very long sigh,
“And that’s what’s upset you little elephant?
That’s why you came over here to hide?”
“Now listen to me very closely,
Monty, you should be feeling so great,
Today is a day to be joyous,
And look at you in this sad state”.

“You have friends and family around you,
A party of cakes, food and drinks,
And I think, you should be happy,
Yes that is what I think.”
Everybody gave you nice presents,
Everybody was here just for you,
And because St. Claire gets one present,
You run and hide, That’s what you do”.

“Now listen to me little elephant,
As today you get older by a year,
And you need to learn understanding,
You need to learn how to care,
Sometimes we need to think about others,
Maybe put ourselves in their place,
Try and see things from their side,
Now look at St. Claire’s happy face”.

“Yes today is your birthday,
And a lot has been done just for you,
But don’t you think your baby sister,
Should get a little something special too,
Remember not too long ago,
When she celebrated her sixth birthday,
Monty, now think back, remember,
Didn’t you also get something that day”.

Monty’s head now bowed lowly,
As he knew his mummy was right,
And now he began to feel guilty,
He wanted to run away with all of his might.
But Mummy just smiled and said “Monty,
I know you are feeling a little bad.
But I think you have leant your lesson.
So please, stop feeling so sad.”

“Instead lets go back to the party,
And if you ask nicely I’m sure,
Your sister will let you try her skates out,
For a few minutes or maybe some more.”
And off they went back to the party,
And I feel it would be right to say,
Even with all that had happened,
Monty still had a wonderful day.

He learnt it was wrong to go snooping,
And to think about only himself,
He learnt that small untruths will always be found out,
And that sharing days gives you great wealth.
He learnt that special days like birthdays,
Were about more than parties, gifts and such,
He learnt a range of good lessons,
He learnt very, very, very, much.

“And now children,” said Mr. Woggle,
“Lets think about Monty’s big day.”
“Was it made special by what he had learnt,
Or simply because it was his birthday.”
Now don’t all rush at once to tell me,
Go home and think about it tonight,
Discuss it with your Mummy’s and Daddy‘s,
Ask them which answer they think is right.

“In the morning talk to your teachers,
Talk to them about Monty’s day,
I think it might make for a good lesson.
Take time to hear what they say.”
“Now run on home little children,
And tomorrow come back here at four,
As Mr. Woggle always has a good tale to tell,
Oh yes I have many many more”.

And with that all the children departed,
Thinking about Monty and birthdays and things,
Thinking about what can be gained by snooping,
And also the trouble it brings.
Thinking about sharing with brothers and sisters,
About how sharing is better by far,
About how tomorrow they’ll hear another tale from Mr. Woggle,
And about how wonderful his tales always are.


It is what it is – Another Side Of Valentines


She leaned back smiling,

‘Why the smile?’ he asked.

She replied-

‘Because it is what it is.

Not a love of wanting and passion

But one that is born of familiarity and respect.

Not one that has left my heart racing-

But one that I know will always be.

Your love has always been like the seasons

Each spell bringing its own characteristics.

There has never been a constant

Nothing that I could be sure of.

One minute you would be infatuated with me, the next…

Well I would be surprised if you remembered my name.

Although something inside would always nag at me and would say that the love was still there.

But it was and is sometimes hard to see it.

Don’t  get me wrong, I am grateful for you and your presence.

The presence of this familiarity.

Yeah, I know what you are thinking…..

There she goes again, dictating how to love, dictating what love is, dictating, dictating…

You know I have never been a tyrant, or that person in charge

So it is funny how you would call it dictating.

I call it sharing with the man I love.

Sharing my thoughts and opinions.

Or maybe they should be kept inside.

A woman should be seen and not heard.

That’s what your daddy told you right?

Yeah, that makes me smile-

As you loved me for having my own mind before,

But that was before I became your wife.

I really do love you

And I have loved being with you over all of these years,

But you know what I wish….

I honestly wish that through the ups and the downs you had just kept on loving me despite it all….

Despite the fact that the kids where bothering you

Despite the fact that money was tight and things were rough

Despite the fact that there was a lack of alcohol in your system

Despite the fact that I did not like your new female ‘friend’

Despite the fact that you were just pissed off at the world and all that it encompassed

Despite all of that.

Because when I was sick I loved you,

When I was mad at you I loved you,

When I was alone, home with the kids and no adult conversation for days I loved you,

When we were broke I loved you,

When you told her you loved her and I overheard I still loved you,

Despite all of that I loved you’.

She reached for her walking stick.

‘But as I said’ she looked at him, ‘it is what it is’.

‘What the hell are you talking about?’ He asked.

She smiled again and raised her aged body up from the chair.

On seeing the pain in her face he got up and stretched out an arm towards her,

‘You need some help?’ He asked.

‘No’ she said, ‘But thanks for showing love’.


I-t’-s A-b-o-u-t T-i-m-e


t has been so long – since I have visited you my friend,

he life I live became a whirlwind –  I thought it would never end,

ometimes I would think  about running back to you,

s my words needed an outlet, what was I to do.

B ut now I am back with a  vengeance – that you surely see,

O h yes, the words are flowing, gushing out of me,

U pon my keyboard fingers tap the letters in their rows,

T iredlessly finding ways to express the things they know.

T he thoughts are now abundant and I will not hold back,

I have a mind to declare a war and launch a word attack,

M ight was never my thing though, it’s not the way I choose,

E xpressive rhythmic wordings.. oh yes, that’s the method I use.

To My Folks Whom I Love

Image courtesy of africa /"

Image courtesy of africa /

Too many times we leave for last the things we now should say,

Too many times our lives, our days; they get so in the way,

We go about evaluating all we see with the eye,

But spend little time considering the things that happen inside.

We forget to say thanks to those who raised us, from a cell to man and woman,

We forget to include them in our present thinking, they will not understand,

A simple thought would tell us that they have lived this before,

Ignorance and arrogance denying that of this world they know more.

You look at the frame, you look at the face and say they do not know of the now,

But a little time and a little talk will illustrate exactly and precisely how-

They know of the now that matters- of the things that trouble you deep,

Of the headaches and heartaches and sorrows of all that cause to weep.

So deep in the night whilst angels sleep in a bed just like the one where you once lay,

Yesterday the angels were you, but they take the form of your children today,

And just like you oh so long ago while they dream blue streams and green hills,

Their parents argue and fuss and cry about debts, lack of money and bills.

Just because these same spirits of yesterday don’t use YouTube and Netflix like you,

Doesn’t mean that the importance of the today is something relatively new-

No in today’s ‘what really matters’ are the sweat and the tears of those past,

All the other stuff just falls by the wayside those are not the things that will last.

So take the time and converse with those who have been there and seen,

Because our reality of today is so parallel to what has already been,

And they have been there and made it and can still sit back and smile,

They know how to get up the energy, produce the strength for the last mile.

So please talk listen understand because the blessing will not always be,

And in time all we will be left with is just this generation of you and me,

So laugh with them, engulf them, be with them and understand,

And as you sit laughing and talking, say thank you and gently hold their hand.


Copyright 2013

Tell Me A Story

"Alas, my poor little bride that was to b...

“Alas, my poor little bride that was to be!” – Frontispiece to The Story of the Mikado, Told by W.S. Gilbert, illustrated by Alice B. Woodward, London: Daniel O’Connor, 90 Great Russell Street, 1921. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Tell me a story they said,

Well the first thing that honestly came to my head,

Was the day I learnt the meaning of ‘dead’,

‘Til this day the thought fills me with dread.

Tell me a story they cried,

I told of the day to my father I had lied,

He found out and I had cried, cried and cried,

To make it up to him- I truly had tried.

Tell me a story they joked,

They stop smiling on learning I was provoked,

So many years and from it I never woke,

A nightmare of which I never spoke.

Tell me a story they sang,

I told about how I had met this old man,

He took me aside and talked holding my hand,

Now there’s a storyteller of whom I am a big fan.

Tell me a story they quipped,

I recalled how one day my pants they were unzipped,

No one told me, everyone was so tight-lipped,

When I found out, how I had literally flipped.

Tell me a story, they were amused,

I started to and then I simply refused,

With all of the tales I was becoming confused,

Muddled memories were starting to fuse.

Tell me a story they said,

I stood there simply shaking my head,

They smiled as my mind by them had been read,

And they began to tell me a story instead.

Copyright 2013.

I Just Felt Like Writing


I just felt like writing,

Like I did back then, when I hung with friends, with a Biro pen,

I just felt like writing,

Letting the words flow out, that’s what it’s all about, no thought no cry no shout,

I just felt like writing,

Putting the words down nice, making nice rhyme with thrice, mixing it up with some spice.

I just felt like writing,

Hearing the words in mind, not knowing what I’d find, when creation has no bind.

I just felt like writing,

My youngest in my ear, reading lines here and there, of me he has no fear.

I just felt like writing,

What next will I put down, no word can make me frown, each with a rhythmic sound.

I just felt like writing,

Taking this time to see, if it is really me, who can express words so free?

I just felt like writing,

Not thinking about grammar,

Not thinking about tone,

Working off into the unknown,

No Copyscape about,

No spellcheck to speak of,

Just writing off of the cuff.

No keyword density,

No search engine laden text,

Just pure expressiveness.

I just felt like writing-

Baa daa baa daa baaam!

And it ends with a saxophone fanfare,

And it ends with a saxophone fanfare,

And it ends with a saxophone fanfare

And it ends

And it ends

And it ends.