For my latest works of poetry for kids I am writing a fantasy series. With each poem being about another creature of fantasy. So, if it’s poetry for kids you’re after, check out the sixth in the series about a goblin.
The Goblin
By Barry S. Brunswick
In another land, in a forest grand,
In the dark corner of the woods.
Lives a little creature,
Said creature isn’t good.
He’s a greedy gobbling goblin.
His skin in thick and green.
His hands are made for punching.
His yellow eyes are mean.
He wanders endless round the forest.
His big fat footsteps thud.
His massive leathery hands,
Hold his goblin club.
Always he is clubbing,
From the dawn unto the dusk.
To fill his massive belly
Splatting squirrels, birds and bugs.
And on one lovely morning
underneath a log.
What should the hungry goblin see?
A spiky fat hedgehog.
He said: “Hello little hedgy hog,
I’m a hungry goblin me.
With my goblin club, I’ll squash you flat, and gobble you for tea.
You may think me short, may think me stout,
But I will tell you here.
I’m enormous for a goblin me,
The others run in fear.”
And the club came down, the guts came out,
And the offal rained around.
And the next bit is so horrible,
I dare not write it down.
His belly was full, spikes and all.
He made quick work of his prey.
With a gurgling squelch and a burping belch
He went along his way.
But the goblin green was greedy see
and always longed for more.
He happened upon an ant’s nest,
Upon the forest floor.
He didn’t resist and licking his lips,
He towered above the ants.
And he grumbled loud and moaned and growled,
And told them of his plans.
He said: “Hello little anti wants,
I’m a hungry goblin me.
With my goblin club, I’ll squash you flat, and gobble you for tea.
You may think me short, may think me stout
But I will tell you here,
I’m enormous for a goblin me.
The others run in fear.”
And the club came down and guts came out
And ant goo rained around.
And the next bit is so horrible,
I dare not write it down.
His gut was full, the dirt and all.
He made quick work of the ants.
His belly grew and nearly blew,
And stretched his under pants.
He went along he carried on
And soon his hunger burned.
When he spied a green and juicy caterpillar
Underneath the ferns.
He walked up close and sniffed his nose
and put his eye down to the floor.
He opened his mouth, the words came out.
It was splatting time once more.
He said: “Hello catty watty piller,
I’m a hungry goblin me.
With my goblin club, I’ll squash you flat and gobble you for tea
You may think me short, may think me stout,
But I will tell you here,
I’m enormous for a goblin me,
The others run in fear.”
His club came down, he heard a growl.
A huge hand went round his throat.
That was not a caterpillar,
It was a bigger goblins toe!
The small goblin quaked in the others shade
As it dangled him about
And how he wished he didn’t hear
What next came from its mouth.
It said: “Hello gobby wobby lin,
I’m a hungry goblin me.
With my goblin club, I’ll squash you flat and gobble you for tea.
You may think me short, may think me stout,
But I will tell you here.
I’m enormous for a goblin me,
The others run in fear.”
And his club came down and guts came out.
And goblin goop rained all around.
And the next bit is so horrible,
I dare not write it down.
Come back soon for the next in the fantasy series of poetry for kids. Have you heard about the mischievous fairies three?
Barry S. Brunswick is an author. You can buy his books on Amazon:
Dreamland Part 1 – The Fabric of Dreams
Dreamland Part 2 – The Masters of Light
The War of The Turnips
Barry Brunswick’s Tall Tales – A Short Story Collection
Inner Outer – A Poetry Collection
