Going on an errand – A poem for #WorldPoetryDay

MARCH 21st each year is celebrated as World Poetry Day, to recognise the unique ability of poetry to capture the creative spirit of the human mind.

The United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization ( UNESCO) proclaimed March 21st as World Poetry Day in 1999.

One of the aims of World Poetry Day is to encourage a return to the oral tradition of poetry recitals. Today I asked friends on Facebook what was their favourite poem, and added a few of my own. In doing so, I recalled that my dad was great at reciting some poems by heart. I shared one of these here – it has become one of the most viewed posts on this blog!

There’s Teddy White
flying his kite,
He thinks himself grand
I declare!
I’d like to make it fly
up sky high,
Ever so much higher
than the old church spire.

Here is another:

Going on an Errand

A pound of tea at one and three
And a pot of raspberry jam,
Two new laid eggs, a dozen pegs
And a pound of rashers of ham.

I’ll say it over all the way
And then I’m sure not to forget,
For if I chance to bring things wrong
My Mother gets in such a sweat.

A pound of tea at one and three
And a pot of raspberry jam,
Two new laid eggs, a dozen pegs
And a pound of rashers of ham.

There in the hay the children play,
They’re having such fine fun!
I’ll go there too, that’s what I’ll do,
As soon as my errands are done.

A pound of tea at one and three,
A pot of new laid jam,
Two raspberry eggs with a dozen pegs,
And a pound of rashers of ham.

There’s Teddy White flying his kite,
He thinks himself grand I declare!
I’d like to make it fly up sky high,
Ever so much higher than the old church spire.

And then – but there…

A pound of three at one and tea,
A pot of new laid jam,
Two dozen eggs, some raspberry pegs,
And a pound of rashers of ham.

Now here’s the shop, outside I’ll stop
And run my orders through again,
I haven’t forgot – it’s better not,
It shows I’m pretty quick, that’s plain.

A pound of tea at one and three,
A dozen of raspberry ham,
A pot of eggs with a dozen pegs,
And a rasher of new laid jam.

– Anonymous

What’s your favourite poem – and why?

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