"Playtime for Ghosts", by Rachel Gauci

Playtime for Ghosts

By Rachel Gauci

SRC Volunteer

When you're sleeping, tucked up in bed,

it's time for the ghosts,

to play instead.

Laughing and joking,

dashing about,

the ghosts are here,

the ghosts are out.

While you're tucked up,

sleeping tight,

the ghosts are about,

they party all night.

They knock things over,

they scream, they shout.

Having fun,

they rush about.

You don't hear them,

you're fast asleep,

in your own little bubble,

counting sheep.

As night turns to morning,

the ghosts shy away,

back in their box,

while you're out to play.

  

All through the day,

the ghosts are asleep.

It's your turn to play,

while they count their sheep.

As soon as the night comes,

and you're back in bed,

the ghosts are back,

it's their turn instead.

  So go to bed quickly,

and close those eyes tight.

If you don't want to see them,

then sleep through the night.

© Rachel Gauci 2013

 

"Monster Splodge Makes A Friend", by Jessica Bain

Monster Splodge Makes A Friend

By Jessica Bain

SRC Volunteer

Once upon a time there lived a monster called Splodge. He didn’t have many friends because everyone thought he was too ugly and too scary. He really wanted a friend, but there were no other monsters in the city.

Splodge stood out a lot; he had blue hair, red eyes and green scaly skin with big pimples. Everyone laughed at him, until one day another monster came to his school. She was called Spogla. She had purple hair and orange slimy skin. They instantly became friends with each other because no one else wanted to be their friends.

One evening all the children in Splodge and Spolga’s class had a party, but Splodge and Spolga weren’t invited. So they made a plan. They would scare everyone at the party, as payback for not being invited. So they dressed up scarily and went to the party.

They went to the back of the building and Splodge helped Spolga climb up to a window. She said ‘Booooo!’ And everyone in the party screamed. They saw all the children leave the party and then they felt bad.

So they explained to the children what they had done and why they had done it. Then the other children felt bad for being so mean to Splodge and Spolga so they all went back into the party and had a great time!
 

© Jessica Bain 2013

Print and colour-in Splodge!

"The Little Scary Spider", by Zeb Anderton

The Little Scary Spider

by Zeb Anderton

SRC Volunteer

It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled like a wolf. Rain pit-patted on the roof. A tree branch tapped against a window.

The dog was restless. It ran from window to window. It liked to watch the flashes of lightning; the sharp, bright tear that cut the clouds.

But the hamster hid. The hamster did not like the thunder. The thunder was like a growl. The hamster hid in the paper pile. It hid behind the tangle of tubes. The hamster was safe in its cage.

The girl sat on the sofa.  She thought she was safe there. The carefree couch: free of the care of lightning; free of the care of thunder; free of the care of tapping and pit-patting and howling.

The little spider crept. It crept and it scuttled. It crept and it scuttled and it scared. It was a scary spider.

The girl was busy. The girl did not see the spider. It crawled into the house. It crawled along the floor. It crawled past the hamster. It crawled past the dog. Then it crawled up the couch. It crawled along the settee… 

The girl looked up. The girl looked and saw the little scary spider on the sofa. The girl said, “Eek! A scary spider!”

The little spider replied, “Eek!” and scuttled along the settee. It ran down the couch. It crawled past the dog. It crept past the hamster. The spider was scared of the girl. It was scared of the lightning. It was scared of the thunder. It was scared of the tapping and pit-patting and howling.

Then the girl found the spider. The girl picked up the spider and took it to the couch. Together, the girl and the little spider waited out the storm on the care-free couch.

© Zeb Anderton 2013



"The Ghost", by Kayleigh Hook

The Ghost

By Kayleigh Hook

SRC  Volunteer

Knock, knock, knock on the door,

A bump in the middle of the night.

Tossing, turning, you try to sleep,

But it's given you such a fright!

You count sheep for all you can,

Warm milk is little help,

Your sleep won't come, you don't know why,

A door slams and you yelp!

Mum and Dad are tucked in tight,

So what's that shadow by your door?

It's big and white, that's not a sheet!

Are those footsteps you heard before?

Hug your toys, nice and tight,

Tug your blanket over your head.

Nothing can get you now, you're safe,

So why's it creeping towards the bed..?

© Kayleigh Hook 2013