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Wayne McLellan

Updated: Mon, 17 Jun 2019 10:52 pm

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I generally write rhyming narrative poems. Something that tells a story, maybe with a twist or turn to take the reader somewhere unexpected. I generally like light hearted/humorous poetry, although I do enjoy the odd dark one.


"Fattening up time" the wall calendar read which meant only one thing to old farmer Ted. Christmas was coming and there's money to be made you see the bigger the bird the more he'd be paid. He'd saved up all year and bought high quality feed to ensure that his flock was the best he could breed. So this year Ted's turkeys would be the tastiest in town and the best biggest birds would bring more bucks per pound. Last Christmas one turkey was the luckiest bird you see, she was too small to be sold so her death was deferred. And being the braniest of birds ever born on the farm meant she could outsmart farmer Ted instead of coming to harm. Whilst Farmer Ted fed her friends to fatten the flock she counted her calories to avoid the chopping block. And as Ted's children had played, their fondness had grown for "Tiny Tina the turkey" as she was affectionately known. This year she told other turkeys of why they were bred "they'll feed you and fatten you and then cut off your head and then stuff and roast you and on you they'll be fed" The head turkey was horrified and asked "what could we do" "should we run and hide or hold a farmyard coup?" "Don't worry" replied Tina "I've hatched a plan so daring" "I'm convinced it won't fail cos I've spent the last year preparing" So she told the turkeys her plan of what she had devised; "We'll fool the farmer this year by going disguised" "I've collected wool from the sheep for the perfect scam and made us costumes to wear as part of my plan to avoid the oven this year if disguised as a lamb" Next day the farmer was up with the cracking of dawn and couldn't believe what he saw as he stepped out on his lawn No turkeys in sight, he could see none around and after searching his farm, none could be found He stood in his farmyard scratching his beard wondering how all his turkeys could have just disappeared. And why were his lambs walking with a waddle? and instead of a bleat they spoke with a gobble!

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

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Jeff Dawson

Fri 21st Jun 2019 18:30

Hi Wayne, thanx for your comment on my Clash poem, glad you enjoyed it! Poetry scene quite good in Bolton, as we have a WOL night 3rd Sunday each month at the socialist club which I run, see gig guide and other nights ran by Live From Worktown, hope you can make it some time, had a quick look at your poems, welcome to WOL, cheers Jeff

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John Marks

Wed 19th Jun 2019 00:25

Thanks Wayne. Good luck on WOL. John

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Wayne McLellan

Mon 17th Jun 2019 23:41

Hi Sarah,

I'd love to expand this poem for a children's book but unfortunately I wouldn't know where to begin.

I do like writing narrative poems, some have an adult twist such as Boy what a Lady! and the Princess and the Frog (which needs a rewrite). I'm working on several storylines at the moment but it takes me a while to get them onto paper.

Thanks for your interest and if I did ever get a poem published I'd know where to come for an illustrator.

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Angel whisperer indigo child x

Mon 17th Jun 2019 19:32

hello Wayne
I'm just replying to your reply on the Christmas Turkey poem if you do decide to give it a try and need an illustrator
I would definitely be interested in doing some illustrations for you if you decide to make a children's book from this poem
have a think about it and get back to me
I think it would be a fabulous children's book
no harm in trying x?

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Angel whisperer indigo child x

Mon 17th Jun 2019 11:45

have you ever thought of turning this into a children's book?
it would be wonderful to read with illustrations x

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