ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
Nevine Boccara went to a girls school in Northern Ireland, a public school in Canada, and an international school in Switzerland and finally decided that school could be fun. At university in London however things became much more dull and so she packed up and went off to Africa were she lived for ten years with her five dogs, two horses and various intermittent felines. She loves the theatre and movies and playing with her eight year old daughter. [May 2002]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (1) I Hate My Alarm Clock. (Children) Children don't always pay attention to the teacher while at school,... [255 words]
Africa Rhymes Nevine Boccara
The tails of three dogs
There were three happy dogs that lived upon a hill,
They were never sad and they were never ill
They loved to chase chickens in their big back yard and they’d sing all day “a dog’s life
‘aint hard”
Every other Wednesday, ‘round about noon
They’d tie on their napkins and take up their spoons
They’d sit around a table and lick their chops then they’d feast on a luncheon of mango gum drops
One sunny day when they played hide and seek
They up and disappeared for a hundred weeks
And when they came home why most everyone cheered and each of the dogs had grown a long white beard
When the chickens asked them where on earth they’d been,
The dogs, all three, grinned a great big grin,
“We‘ve traveled round the world you see and we’d be there still if we weren’t so happy to live upon our hill.
A Monkey’s Tail
The lion lay low in his dark and draughty cave
On that cold, rainy, blustery day,
He didn’t appear all that terribly brave
His tail swished to swat flies away.
When the monkey looked down at the great lion’s lair
From up there on his slippery perch,
He thought “Lion” humph, I shall dare
I’ll be as quite as a mouse in a church.
The monkey climbed down the tall tree oh so quickly
With the help of his seven foot tail
Scratched his bottom en route, as it was a bit tickly
Stopped twice, to chew on his nail.
The leaves on the ground were so soft and so thick
Not a noise did he make when he fell
The monkey was quite sure he’d manage the trick,
In his hand was huge copper bell
He crept forward, and forward ever so slowly
Without stopping or scratching at all
And monkeys are usually bouncy and lively
Not lowly or humble at all.
Just as he got to the whiskers, the lions I mean, came a YAAWWN
The monkey raced back to his branch on the tree saying
My brains’ much less use than his brawn.
Ode to the Nag
There was an old horse that lived in a garden, a grumpy old horse at that,
His friends would come by everyday at eleven, just for a bit of a chat,
But he’d send them away ,between mouthfuls of hay he’d say I’m quite happy to be on my own, this is my paddock and I will not have it, I much prefer being alone.
His friends had a meeting at the base of a tree sat the rabbit, the adder and mole,
And they talked for a bit about the horse that would sit and not move,
Like a lump of black coal.
“He really looked gloomy and despite being roomy, the garden is not all that big.”
So said the mole who was quite good at holes and so promptly he started to dig.
“And the grass at long last is yellow and past it and not very tasty to eat” added rabbit who’d had it (quite often at that) and felt strongly about greens as a treat.
The adder decided that it was high time to find their grumpy old friend a new home
“We shall open the gate and help him escape so to tastier fields he may roam”
Now as luck would have it, just over the way lay a luscious green meadow to graze,
The old horse would love it, his friends all agreed,’twas a happier end to his days.
The next day the black horse looked upon the red gate which hung open wide
on its' hinge,
He looked left he looked right and with no one in site not in fear did he cower or cringe,
He bounded, he galloped, he burst forth with joy, n’ere a merrier nag will one see, than this lovely black horse full of life and of course he’s magnificent now that he’s free.
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"Dear Nevine, Your poems are simply devine, I laughed and I cackled and was very amused (and I'm not even a child). Also I was delighted to see my long lost friend had taken up the pen in a literary challenge. (Don't know what happened to the great African novel though...) Love to hear from you! brianston@hotmail.com will do the trick. This 'ere parrot ain't dead yet, I am thriving and awaiting your sweet words. Brian" -- Brian Johnston, Sydney, NSW, Australia.
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