We would like to thank everyone for registering on our site. 

Thanks to people who have sent  poetry into us over the past year.

We did not expect the enormous support from everyone all over the world.

We now have alot of members and this is still growing.

We would in particular like to thank all the poets from

Nottingham who have supported us by sending poetry into us.

Please don’t stop sending poetry in,this is what we are all about.

Our stats are going through the roof as we become

more and more popular.Please keep voting and sending the

 brilliant comments, pictures, and poetry we all love.

Best wishes From the team

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The Manners Collection

The Manners Collection

The Manners Collection is a children’s poetry book authored by Gillian Sims. This is Poetree Creations  first publication and is a compilation  of entertaining  and educational poems, where  animals  narrate the tales and teach children the art of manners. 

Read extracts from the book. Click on Poems from the manners book.

The book is available at an introductory online price of  £6.95 (plus packaging). To order your copy visit www.nielsonbooknet.co.uk or e-mail your contact details (name, address & phone number) to poetreecreations@yahoo.com with ‘ORDER MANNERS BOOK’ in the subject line and our representatives will contact you shortly.

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IT IS GOOD TO READ POETRY

LOOK IN OUR PAGES

3d_book2

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Reading_news

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fredpic3

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walking cow

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Six abreast came marching,
With boots and brasses glow,
Each in step with the time,
Their movements seem to flow.

Slowly they move down the ramp,
A truly perfect stride,
With chins up and backs straight,
It would well you up with pride.

But there are no smiles on this parade,
No crowd applauding,
Just silence and tears on cheeks,
The families in their mourning.

The burden on their khaki shoulders,
Is carried with utmost care,
For inside lays a soldier lost,
And the life the he did share.

They place him within the hearse,
For a procession through the streets,
With salutes shown and colours bowed,
To the sound of marching feet.

Forever we shall remember,
Those that have not returned,
For freedom is never given,
But in blood it is always earned.

By Alex Roissetter.

Entered  in 4th poetry competition

15th Jan  2010

PLEASE VOTE!!!

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AFTER DINNER BEFORE SLEEP HAS COME
I LOOK AT THE PICTURES SHE HAS DONE
“CLOSE YOUR EYES AND OPEN YOUR HANDS”
PICTURES OF SEAS PICTURES OF SAND
 
THE FOLLOWING DAY IS JUST THE SAME
SHE HAPPILY PLAYS THE PICTURE GAME
“CLOSE YOUR EYES AND OPEN YOUR HANDS”
PICTURES OF SEAS PICTURES OF SAND
 
JUST TO PROVE THEY’RE NOT THE SAME
SHE SLIGHTLY ALTERS THE PICTURE GAME
CLOSE YOUR EYES AND OPEN YOUR HANDS
PICTURES OF SHELLS PICTURES OF SAND
 
THE MIND OF A CHILD CAN ALTER PAINT
TO MAKE IT APPEAR JUST WHAT IT AIN’T
CLOSE YOUR EYES AND OPEN YOUR BRAIN
IT NOT JUST SEA AND SAND AGAIN
 
            BY DON HOLMES
This is a poem I wrote for my daughter when she started nursery 1980
entered on 26.01.2010
PLEASE VOTE!!!
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With twenty five pounds I could buy the world,
Rent some love and find a girl
With all that money I could buy a pearl
And throw it right back with a flambouyant twirl
 
If I received this monetary gift
I’d never demand more like Oliver twist
I’d raise it high  in a victorious fist
And promply tick everything, on my to do list
 
What about the poor I hear you ask
I’d flip them a penny and in gratitude bask
For charity my man is a glorious task
But rich conceited giving is mockeries mask
 
And as the sunsets on my fortunate fortune
Fabulously found in a fair, fair erm faire
Who ever thought in a beautious bazaar
I’d, walk away content with a twenty five pound hare
by Olumese
entered into our first international competition

 

 

 

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White horse on the mountain
Main and tail a- flowing
Running proud and easy
To where green grass is growing
 
Gracefully your canter 
Is halted and you stop
You look around the meadow
Then slowly start to crop
 
Before you fill your belly
The wind a warning brings
Your nostrils flare in panic
And an eagle takes to wings
 
White horse on the mountain 
It’s really time you ran
Your enemy approaches 
And he is known as man
 
With power and grace a-plenty
The white horse starts to flee
He races off to safety
Determined to be free
 
And on a rocky outcrop
He stops and rears up high
As if to say his freedom
No man could ever buy
 
By Don Holmes
Entered for 4th competition on 08.03.2010
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A moment spent

Is it found, captured or lost?

To remember something, a moment,

What is the cost?

Everyone thinks, regrets or feels

But what is this moment,

Is it real?

The things we see

or touch or think,

All disappears

With the mind, with a blink,

Time will for ever pass us by

But we will never know

How or why,

But what was the moment

Was it right was it wrong?

A moment’s a moment

Its where we belong,

Whether its false or if its true,

You are soon to discover

The moment is in you.

Written by Abbe Cutforth on 07/03/2010

 

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sleeping cloud

Rest your head and close your eyes

I will sing you sweet lullabies,

Clear your head of all your thoughts

Ease your mind of worrying sorts,

Drift off into a peaceful dream

Imagine the beautiful things you’ve seen,

Float on the fluffy clouds above

Where nothing matters but the ones you love,

Think of all tomorrows fun

Soon will rise the morning sun.

Written by Abbe Cutforth on 07/03/2010

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