Isabella and the poem Cellar
A children’s-poetry story picture-book
Extract from Isabella and the Poem Cellar
One Sunday, just after breakfast, Isabella sat down at the kitchen table. She was armed with felt tips, pencils, crayons, paper, glitter, glue, infact everything from her art cupboard. She stared at the sheet of white paper, her pencil in her hand and waited. She thought, looked out of the window, waited a bit longer, tapped her pencil on the table and sighed.
Her mother, who was washing up, looked over. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Isabella sighed again “I don’t know what to draw, I’ve tried thinking, but I can’t think of anything.” she said sadly.
“You know what you’re missing,” her mother said, “Imagination!”
Isabella looked surprised, she rummaged through her pile of pens, pencils and paraphernalia, surely she couldn’t have missed anything, it had taken her ages to bring it all to the table “Where is it?” she asked. “where’s my imagination gone?’
“In here,” said her mother pointing to Isabella’s head.
Isabella looked confused “How do I get it out?”
Her mother laughed and sat down next to Isabella “Close your eyes. What colour do you see?”
“Pink” said Isabella.
“That’s a surprise,” said mum, “me too. Anything else?”
“No!” Isabella said crossly.
Mum leaned towards her “Ooh I can see…an angel.”
Isabella sat up straight “What is she doing?” she asked leaning towards her mother.
“Just standing with her arms up, and one leg sticking out.”
“Is she dancing?” Isabella asked.
“No – I think she’s…” but before Mum could finish.
“Cart-wheeling!” shouted Isabella, “and there are more angels following her, they’re all cart-wheeling; through a field of ribbons. Pink, silver and purple-ribbons.”
Mum stood up to leave, but Isabella had quickly picked up another sheet of paper. Mum sat down again, looked at her daughter and smiled broadly. This was going to be fun.