Is hope and comfort what you are?

Twinkle, twinkle, I have a clue!

They say we’re made of stardust too.

Made to shine, made to gleam

To imagine and to dream

Twinkle, twinkle, little star

– a friend to us is what you are.

Twinkle, twinkle, little child,

In the garden running wild

Full of laughter, free and light

I hope your future will be bright,

Twinkle, twinkle, you’ll go far

Shine on bravely – you’re the star.

Michaela Morgan

Stars

Stars

Stars

are to reach for,

beautiful freckles of hope,

speckles on velvet,

to steer ships,

to comfort those trapped in the darkness of their making,

to lead the wayward when the compass falters,

to remind us that the day is almost breaking,

dawn is just out – taking time to warm the other side of the world.

Stars are for wishes.

Stars are

tiny lights of hope,

fireflies in the night,

golden specks to gaze at,

tin tacks on a dark cloth,

studs glittering,

sequins on a first party dress.

Stars are

our brightest and best,

shards of hope to keep us going,

marking the place,

marking the seasons, giving us purpose

because somewhere out there

there are other star gazers

gazing back.

Pie Corbett

Comet

Comet

(To be read as quickly as possible, in as few breaths as you can manage.)

I’m a spinning, winning, tripping, zipping, supersonic ice queen:

see my moon zoom, clock my rocket, watch me splutter tricksy space-steam.

I’m the dust bomb, I’m the freeze sneeze, I’m the top galactic jockey

made (they think) of gas and ice and mystery bits of something rocky.

Oh I sting a sherbet orbit, running rings round star or planet;

should I shoot too near the sun, my tail hots up: ouch – OUCH – please fan it!

And I’m told I hold the answer to the galaxy’s top question:

that my middle’s made of history (no surprise I’ve indigestion)

but for now I sprint and skid and whisk and bolt and belt and bomb it;

I’m that hell-for-leather, lunging, plunging, helter-skelter COMET.

Kate Wakeling

Winter Morning

Winter Morning

Winter is the king of showmen,

Turning tree stumps into snow men

And houses into birthday cakes

And spreading sugar over lakes.

Smooth and clean and frosty white,

The world looks good enough to bite.

That’s the season to be young,

Catching snow flakes on your tongue.

Snow is snowy when it’s snowing,

I’m sorry it’s slushy when it’s going.

Ogden Nash

February Twilight

February Twilight

I stood beside a hill

Smooth with new-laid snow,

A single star looked out

From the cold evening glow.

There was no other creature

That saw what I could see –

I stood and watched the evening star

As long as it watched me.

Sara Teasdale

Night

Night

The sun descending in the west,

The evening star does shine;

The birds are silent in their nest,