Claire Saxby writes fiction, non-fiction and poetry for children. She has published picture books and chapter books, short stories and articles. Her poetry appears regularly in magazines, anthologies, on train walls and in museum resources. Claire lives in Melbourne and loves it, despite what anyone says about the weather.

For more information or to contact Claire, visit www.clairesaxby.com

 

Poems

how to grow a flower

rain, it’s time to fall

no more shilly-shallying

no more arc-sparking

it’s time to leave your comfort cloud

and sprinkle me free

 

rain, spread your shower wide

that my roots must stretch to drink

and my leaves might catch your drift

I am thirsty rain   I need more

to meet my growing need

 

rain, I need your help

to burst from this green shell

tight chrysalis to my butterfly

let me stretch colour wings

and fly above the earth

© Claire Saxby

 

Sentry

The dog barks again,

she’s found a back garden invader.

Sometimes it’s a dug up bone

sitting on her grass.

Sometimes it’s a bird

hovering in her airspace.

Sometimes it’s a fledgling

making an unscheduled landing.

This time it’s a lizard,

a large blue-tongue lizard.

 

A large lizard,

he’s much smaller

than the small dog.

He’s brave too,

or foolhardy or desperate.

He lifts his head,

and displays that tongue.

The dog dances around

trying to approach from behind.

The lizard is too clever,

spinning fast, faster

until I have to rescue them both:

the lizard from the dog;

the dog from garden-guardian duty.

© Claire Saxby

 

my dog

trolls the creek

while we trip-trap the bridge

 

dries herself in clover

mindless of burrs

 

rolls in fish

no longer swimming

 

runs across back across

three gallops to our every footstep

 

sleeps

all afternoon

© Claire Saxby