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Despite the joyful orange balloon, the huge yellow sun and the bright green trees, the child still feels grey. That is until a reassuring hand reaches out and shares words of kindness. Soon the child begins to see the warmth of colour again, and understands that their colours will always be there and that they will always be loved, whether they feel grey or sunshine yellow.
From one of the UK’s leading performance poets, this collection celebrates the very best types of mum, including mum as gamer, party animal, slob and free spirit. Inspired by Laura Dockrill’s own experiences of childhood and motherhood, these poems will make you laugh and celebrate the wonder of mums.
It’s the year 2000. I’m fourteen. I’m trying really hard to be a grunger right now in a Foo Fighters t-shirt and a spiked choker. There were rumours that the world was going to end. It hadn’t as of yet but I still had reasons to believe that was true.
Despite the joyful orange balloon, the huge yellow sun and the bright green trees, the child still feels grey. That is until a reassuring hand reaches out and shares words of kindness. Soon the child begins to see the warmth of colour again, and understands that their colours will always be there and that they will always be loved, whether they feel grey or sunshine yellow.
Laura Dockrill’s inimitable style of poetic rap is brilliantly suited to this romp through the house and round and round the playgroup, as one little poodle demonstrates what fun it is to stomp and stamp and pout – that is until naptime, when all she really wants is a CUDDLE!
Exploring his mother’s dressing table, a little boy discovers lipstick. It begins on his lips, where it looks very good. But then it goes for a little walk, squiggle squiggle, on the mirror, scribble scribble, on the shiny floorboards, smudge smudge. And even on the fluffy cat. Uh-oh! What will happen when Mum, Dad and big sister sees all this mess?
Everyone needs somewhere to dream. Rex has gone to stay with his godfather, Sparky. Rex doesn’t say much but that’s OK because Sparky is always on hand with a cup of tea to enjoy on the sofa, set up outside like an outdoor living room. Rex has his sketchbook, and he draws how he feels even if he doesn’t talk about it. And in Sparky’s garden, hidden under the canopy of the willow tree, is the Dream House: a lovingly created space just for Rex, to dream, to play, to think, to be. A place he’s loved all his childhood. But to go inside now Rex must summon his strength for revisiting the ghosts of his past.
Oh no! Barbra the cactus won’t stop playing her recorder, the yummy strawberry toothpaste has run out and now – to top it all off – Cookie has to have his hair cut! Which all makes for one very angry little cookie! But perhaps you, the reader, can find a way to turn his grumpy frown upside down?
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