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The poems of secrets

The poems of secret

 

My secret is made from-

The fingertips of cotton candy clouds

The body is made out of chocolate

The legs are made out of nice coco chips

The arms are called cripses for a reason

Some of the arms are called walkers

Some of the legs are called coco for (chocolate)

 

There was a robotic tap there…

But no one was there…

There was no brain, just a skull…

But if there was no skull then…

There was only a body and legs and arms…

If there was no body then no arms…

Just legs!

And a waist!

And a stomach…

And then nothing was there! 

My secret can:

My Secret can:

 

My secret is made from-

the smell of fresh lemonade,

the smell of fresh homemade victoria sponge cake,

the breeze of a lovely summer’s day,

the luck of a 4-leaf clover.

 

I found it-

Clenched in a lions fist,

Hanging of the side of the kitchen side,

Lying flat on the side of a car wheel,

Splattered over the floor.

 

This secret can-

Spread hope around the world,

Cup a lion’s roar, a dog’s bark and a cats purr, 

Light up the world with spirit,

Make a home for the homeless.

 

If i lost this secret-

I would go and look for it. Until I find it.

 

My curiosity

My curiosity is made from – 

 

the hope of helping others,

millions of gold riches,

the bitter smell of a mouldy lemons, 

and the feeling of what it would be like

 to be appreciated in the world.

 

I found it – 

 

weeping inside me,

encaged in a dark cell 

wanting to explore the world,

wandering the streets 

wondering what to do next.

 

My curiosity can – 

 

my curiosity can lead to an everlasting adventure,

it can  uncover secret tombs and buried treasure,

it can discover abandoned cities and David’s hair.

My special secret Poem

My secret Poem!

 

My special secret is made from

The gentle threaded Cotton wool,

the noise from sheep.

Ready to make soft blankets 

for the winter.

I found it…

I heard the neverending noise,

I smelt the sugar salted wool, as 

It slowly drifted its way everywhere. 

scenting the area around.

This special secret can..

Smooth the gentle fluff on 

a precious dog, 

dancing around in the moonlight,

and help the ones in danger.

 

  

Poem

My secret is made of …

Trees secretively whispering on a windy winter’s day.

Crows silently gossiping on the electricity poles. 

The fox’s puffed up winter coat.

And the black beaked rook.

I found it…

Tucked underneath the sofa.

Hidden away in the bracken.

Between a robin’s beak.

Where pigs go moo.

The secret can..

Catch a red dot shot from a laser,

climb a mountain in heelys ,

And more.

 

 

 

 

The Hidden Secret

My secret is made from-

 

The tears of a lonely child.

The promise of long life

The pride of a win in fortnight

A cold winter coat on a hot day

and the fingertips of a rainbow.

 

I found it-

In the joy of opening a present.

The sadness of saying goodbye.

Sailing on a boat of nothingness.

This secret can-

Destroy the hearts of those who are loved,

Blow the minds of creativity.

Apologise to sadness and anger.

If i lost this secret-

The world would be full of fury,

the light would turn to dark.

World war 3 will erupt and 

The would will be nothingness.

The Poem of Promises never to be broken

The Poem of Promises never to be broken …

Promises are to never be broken.

At Least that’s what some people think.

Promises are made of:

The wings of a butterfly creating your heart flutter with joy.

The dark suspense if the secret will be kept safe.

The feeling of jealousy blooms in your mind, trying to escape.

Making you feel guilt. That ends in lost friendships.

 

I found it:

On my favourite holiday begging my best friend to tell me her secret.

Inside my mind, tempting me to tell.

And I did and that caused trouble.

Forever. I should have kept my hidden emotions inside me. I didn’t even know I had all that locked in me. I felt like I betrayed her.

 

This promise can:

Make a friendship grow or break.

Tear friendships apart.

It can create guilt draining in your head

Just like it did for me.

 

If I kept this secret to myself

Maybe I would be a better friend..

 

my secret winter poem

I tell my secret? No indeed, not I;
Perhaps some day, who knows?
But not today; it froze, and blows and snows,
And you’re too curious: fie!
You want to hear it? well:
Only, my secret’s mine, and I won’t tell.
Or, after all, perhaps there’s none:
Suppose there is no secret after all,
But only just my fun.
Today’s a nipping day, a biting day;
In which one wants a shawl,
A veil, a cloak, and other wraps:
I cannot ope to everyone who taps,
And let the draughts come whistling through my hall;
Come bounding and surrounding me,
Come buffeting, astounding me,
Nipping and clipping through my wraps and all.
I wear my mask for warmth: who ever shows
His nose to Russian snows.
To be pecked at by every wind that blows?
You would not peck? I thank you for good will,
Believe, but leave the truth untested still.

My fury

My fury is made from

The lava from a volcano

The fingertips of a maniac on fire

The mind of a chicken

I found it- 

locked in a child’s head

inside a prison

imprisoned in a house full of little orphans that have no money.

Excitement Poem!

 

Excitement Poem!

 

My excitement is created by-

The blast of colourful and creative confetti

Sprinkles of glitter

And the disco ball shimmering in the sky.

Best of all the sounds of the roller coasters

Rocking on their rails.

 

I found it-

At a theme park,

Flying around watching the log flume run down the slide.

I also found it at a sleepover,

When the clock strikes 12,

Having a midnight feast with my best friends,

AKA: the 4 fingernails.

 

My excitement can-

Hold distress and magic it away,

My friends makes some noises and I join in too,

My high pitched scream echoes around the theme park.

My excitement makes me happy, 

My friends find it funny,

So we all do the same.

 

If I lost excitement-

My friends would stop making noises and together we’d no longer be the 4 fingernails.