Words+Pictures #3

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my kidsLAND

Are you up for a creative challenge? Each week I post a picture plus a word. They might – or might not – have any connection. Then it’s over to you to write a poem for children inspired by the word and picture. Send your poem to me at traffa-m(at)bigpond.net.au and I’ll post a selection to feature as Poem of the Day.

Today’s picture was taken at Kalbarri in Western Australia during a family holiday. Shadows have always fascinated me, the way they shift and change setting my imagination wandering in all sorts of directions. I’m interested in seeing what you come up with in response to this combination of Word+Picture.

 

 

Poem of the Day

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Doorway to Destiny

By Lynelle Kendall

 

Castle door. Gaping

like a wound in a

jigsawed

stone wall.

 

Yawning black, back, back

Into the depthless dark.

 

Stand on the threshold.

A feeling of falling,

Or something ghostly

Calling, calling.

 

Shudder to think

What peril awaits

For those who

Enter here.

 

 

Poem of the Day

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Counting down

by Nadine Cranenburgh

 

Five minutes left –

not much longer to wait

When the bell goes

I’ll zoom right through the gate

 

Left at the rose bush,

scream down Breakneck Hill,

bump through the creek bed

right up to Pa’s mill

 

Spokes spitting gravel

I’ll skid to a halt

my bike left to rest

like a sweat-lathered colt

 

Scrubbed up and changed

then I’m right for a snack –

left-over shepherd’s pie,

sigh and lean back

 

“Wake up right now!”

teacher’s voice breaks my spell.

Four minutes left…

I can’t wait for the bell

 

 

Poem of the Day

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Behind the door

by Jenny Erlanger

 

I know it sounds a bit absurd

but you should hear what I have heard

about the things that have occurred

inside that stony tomb.

 

There’s talk of heaps of human bones,

of eerie grunts and squeals and moans,

of blood that oozes from the stones

and ghosts that haunt each room.

 

They say the spiders down the halls

are all the size of bowling balls

and prone to jumping off the walls

and landing in your hair

 

Of course, I don’t know this for sure.

It’s time for someone to explore

what really lies beyond that door.

Please enter… if you dare.

 

  • Submitted in response to Words+Pictures #2 poetry challenge

ENTER

 

Photo: Neil Mulligan

Poem of the Day

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Back Soon!

By Louise Molloy

He stands before the dragon
And sidles closer still,
No fiery breath nor fury greets him,
But eyes half-shut
And scales dull grey,

The dragon lets its tongue loll
And splutters loudly, ENTER!
He climbs each quiver
Of its quivering tongue
And peers into its dark, dark mouth,

WHAT BEASTIES LURK THAT KILL MY FLAME?
He peers down its dark, dark throat,
“I’ll need my weapons to cure your ill.”
NO VEGETABLES!
“No worries, I’ll be back soon.”

 

  • Inspired by Words+Pictures #2 poetry challenge. Louise said she took poetic licence and ‘The castle with its steps, dark door and hooded window turned into a sick dragon for me’.

    Photo: Neil Mulligan

    Photo: Neil Mulligan

ENTER

Poem of the Day

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MEET PI

by Allan Cropper

 

These circles give me headaches

and here’s the reason why,

I’m fine with sums and minuses

but though I always try

This symbol keeps on bugging me

I thought that I would cry

The day my teacher tried to teach me pi

 

This squiggly little symbol

keeps on doing in my head

Looks nothing like a number but

more like a tiny shed

I’m feeling pretty hungry so

give me pie charts instead

My teacher keeps on trying to teach me pi

 

The inside of a circle is

pi r squared I’m told

And 2 pi r the measurement

the distance round a hole

This never ending talk of pi

just drives me up the wall

My teacher won’t stop trying to teach me pi

 

A quadratic equation can

At worse make me irate

Serve me long division, and

I’ll start to salivate

Pi will always be the thing

I dearly love to hate

My teacher won’t stop trying to teach me pi

Poem of the Day

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Robyn Youl submitted this response to my recent Words+Pictures poetry challenge…

 

Walk

 

Sneakers

are for fun

for

after school stuff.

 

Heavy

cloddy

black school shoes

lace up cocoons

walk.

 

Your feet

come out

to stretch your legs

and fly.

 

Sneakers

are not made

to walk

they’re made to run.

 

 

 Sneakers

 

Sneaker shod

I walk

I run

to the shops,

to my friends

to Little Aths

.. and at the end

of the day

home to Mum.

 

Are Refugee Kids

Sneaker shod

when

they walk

they run

from

the bombs

the bad men

with guns?

 

Are Refugee kids

Sneaker shod

when

they walk

they run

from

home

family and friends

into the unknown?