top of page
Screen Shot 2022-06-16 at 3.21.57 PM.png
BLOG
Writer's pictureLittle Thoughts Press

Two Poems by Isobel Mooney


Two turtles on the edge of a pond

 



Life as a Tortoise


I wake up on my back

I hear the ducks quack

Then I get up and stretch

Grab my pencils I use to sketch

Slowly walk outside

I see the snakes slither and slide

Walk for an age 'til I reach the lake

I see a horse, eating cake

I get out my paper and pen

And start to draw a wren

I see a willow tree with a hole in it

With an owl, learning to knit

I've almost finished my painting

When it starts raining

The colours start to blur and mix

But I should be able to give it a fix

And then, out of nowhere

From out of thin air

The rain turns to snow

And the wind starts to blow

So I turn to head home

When I see a small gnome

He looks at me pleading

And I see he needs feeding

So I bring him with me

And give him some brie

Then he said "thank you

I was going to turn blue"

So then he left, that little one

And I was alone, with no one

But then came along, sad but singing

A little white dove, her voice sweetly ringing

She said, "I saw you near the water

And I liked your drawing of that little otter

And can I stay here, at least for a bit

My nest was destroyed, and it was in a flit"

So I said yes, and she was delighted

She knew a little song, so she recited

And then she made a bed

She rested her head

I let her sleep

And without making a peep

I went to my bed of fog

And then I slept like a log






Life in a Forest


The trees in the forest rustle

The animals make hustle

The river flows

The rose bush grows

The deer leap round the trees

Feeling the forest breeze

The fox stalks its prey

Little mice come from the hay

The leaves fall

The parents call

As the sun turns to rain


Under the dirt it’s dark

No sun or a small spark

We come when wet

Though don’t make a bet

The birds fly down

They destroy our town

And get their share

When we come for fresh air

They expose us to all

The worms, beetles and wood lice small

Just at the beginning of life



The leaves on the trees shake

The branches seem to ache

The flutter of small things

Raindrops brought by wings

The sloth, big and slow

To the robin in the snow

Our nests are sticks

Which we need to fix

The bark gets broken

We make it a token

When the sloth comes to play




 

Issy Mooney is in year 8 (UK)- aged 12. She loves anything to do with Harry Potter and stories with a magical twist. She is currently enjoying the Eragon series of books by Christopher Paolini. Issy's poem, "A Christmas Fair" was featured in Little Thoughts Press Issue One: Magical Winter. Issy's artwork and her story, "The Oak Tree," can be found in Issue Two: Natural Wonder.

Comments


bottom of page