One floating frozen feather of snow
falls, then another, and and off I go...
I slip, I stutter, I flutter my wings.
The world is full of freezing things.
I slide - I glide - I spin on my toes,
I lift my wings and strike a pose.
In the stillness, silence grows.

Take a hold of your eye-stalks, it's true! We are also welcoming the fabulous JULIE ANNA DOUGLAS to The Funeverse!

Julie is a poet-in-residence at Gibshill Children's Centre AND she writes regularly for Amazing Kid's Magazine. She's also published by The Emma Press and in the deliciously hungry pages of The Caterpillar. We are super lucky to have her working 23 and a half hours a day writing poetry for The Funeverse!

Just take a look at these poems by Julie...

Job Description for The Big, Bad Wolf

Wanted; A Wolf;
Must be both bad and big,
with a fondness for fear
and a penchant for pig.
Ideal candidate
will be rough and tough,
with strong, healthy lungs
and plently of puff.
Fur, eyes and teeth
in tip-top condition?
Excellent skills
in house demolition?
Quoting reference:
'Chinny-Chin-Chin,'
just slide down the chimney
and apply within!

​The Auntie Eater

The Auntie Eater is an humungous,
hideous, hungry beast
who is always on the look out
for an Auntie-flavoured feast.
He spends his days slobbering,
sneaking, sculking and stalking
but couldn't keep up with Aunt Elsie
when she was power walking.
He crept up on Auntie Mary
who whacked him with her brolley.
Aunt Anne escaped just in time
when he took a bite from her trolley.
He frightened Auntie Aggie
as she tried to sit and knit.
Aunt Grace is too scared to go out
(but she won't admit it.)
The marauding monster's mayhem,
shows no sign of stopping.
He even popped onto Aunt May's lap-top
when she was online shopping!
But what this creature doesn't realise;
this cowardly carbuncle,
is that behind every annoyed Auntie
there's a monster-slaying Uncle!

Dragon for Hire!

Dragon for hire.
Comes with free fire.
Perfect for barbecues.

Skilled in smelting
and marshmallow melting.
What have you got to lose?

Expert home heater
and burglar eater.
No job too big or too small.

Clears snow with ease.
Makes perfect grilled cheese.
Go on- just give me a call.

Findlay Sharkleston III

Findlay Sharleston III
Ocean Villain Extraordinaire
may be deadly and terrifying
but he's also dashing and debonair.

Although the mere mention of his name
creates chaos in Deep Blue Bay,
he always bows politely to passers by,
and tips his hat to wish them, 'Good Day.'

When he lures his fresh ingredients
to his lair to make Seafood Stew,
he is awfully courteous and polite,
greeting them with a, 'How do you do?'

Even when searching for a midnight snack
in Langoustine Lagoon,
his dazzling smile and beautiful manners
make the Lobster Ladies swoon.

Eagle-eyed Sillynauts may have noticed that The Funeverse was looking for two new poets to add their brilliance to our ranks. After a great many entries and lots and lots of chin-stroking (and cake) we are very pleased to announce the first of our winners.

Please welcome JANET FOXLEY to The Funeverse!

Janet is a super-powered writer whose fantastic Muncle Trogg books were widely praised. Janet won the 2010 Times / Chicken House Children's Fiction competition, shortlisted for a whole fistful of prizes AND was featured on the Richard and Judy book club! We are so so pleased she is now adding her words to The Funeverse

Here are the poems which made us say YES!

TIME FOR A SNACK

As I was feeling like a snack
I came across a multipack
Of little fishes, pink and shiny,
Tasty too – but sadly tiny.
If I’m to last right through till supper
I need a better filler-upper.
A porpoise or a common seal
Would do me till my next full meal.
But failing those, I could do worse
Than eat the writer of this verse.

CARROTS

I don’t eat yukky carrots,
I just eat yummy cakes –
The kind you get in cafés,
The sort my mother makes.
Today she’s made another one
(she really loves to bake)
And it tastes quite scrummilicious…
What? You say “It’s Carrot Cake”?

COSY, BUT…

Under the hill near the apple tree
Is a little home, with worms for tea.

It’s cosy, not too cold or hot,
The sort of place I like a lot.

But – worms for tea? No, on the whole,
I wouldn’t want to live with Mole.

DON’T TELL MUM

Today I met a monster
And took him home with me.
I hid him in my bedroom
So my mother wouldn’t see.

He’s sleeping in my cupboard now.
My mother doesn’t know.
I’ve wrapped him in a towel
So his claws and tail don’t show.

Mum reads a bedtime story –
It’s sadly quite a bore –
Then suddenly she stops and says
‘That sounded like a snore!’

‘Oh that? It’s just my monster.’
Mum laughs. ‘How you pretend!
I’m glad it’s just another
Imaginary friend.’

Costumes for sale made by Witches!
Halloween robes, boots, and britches!

We'll sew spells so smart
from our Which Costume Book:
just pin, pick and mix
to conjure your look.

At midnight she taps on the window,
Summons me and I must go
Out for a ride on her broomstick,
Into the darkness and snow.