Usman and the Dinosaurs
Usman was a boy of ten
and very near eleven.
When he played with his dinosaurs
he was in seventh heaven.
They marched across the carpet,
he held them in his hands,
he marvelled at their modelled heads
as they explored his lands.
He lined them up at intervals,
they were a perfect troupe.
He lay right down and stared at them—
his friends weren’t in the loop.
Then Usman’s class went on a trip,
to Kensington they travelled.
He watched the moving dinosaurs—
for him, all time unravelled.
Now, come on kids, it’s time to go,
the teacher said out loud,
but Usman sat, refused to budge—
he wouldn’t join the crowd.
How he cried, he couldn’t leave,
could not pass through the door.
To walk away was so unfair
while dinosaurs ruled the floor.
When he got home he got them out,
observed their coloured plastic.
Of all the creatures in the world
they were his light fantastic,
for Usman was a boy of ten
and very near eleven.
When he played with his dinosaurs
he was in seventh heaven.
and very near eleven.
When he played with his dinosaurs
he was in seventh heaven.
They marched across the carpet,
he held them in his hands,
he marvelled at their modelled heads
as they explored his lands.
He lined them up at intervals,
they were a perfect troupe.
He lay right down and stared at them—
his friends weren’t in the loop.
Then Usman’s class went on a trip,
to Kensington they travelled.
He watched the moving dinosaurs—
for him, all time unravelled.
Now, come on kids, it’s time to go,
the teacher said out loud,
but Usman sat, refused to budge—
he wouldn’t join the crowd.
How he cried, he couldn’t leave,
could not pass through the door.
To walk away was so unfair
while dinosaurs ruled the floor.
When he got home he got them out,
observed their coloured plastic.
Of all the creatures in the world
they were his light fantastic,
for Usman was a boy of ten
and very near eleven.
When he played with his dinosaurs
he was in seventh heaven.
This poem is copyright (©) Janet Hatherley 2024
About the Writer
Janet Hatherley
Janet grew up loving poems from an early age and would often carry them around in her head. She still does. She has taught in many London schools and one in Turkey. As a poet she enjoys writing for both adults and children. Her pamphlet, What Rita Tells Me, was published in 2022 and her collection, On the road to Cadianda, was published in April 2024, both by Dempsey & Windle/Vole.