A hairy problem

If she hadn’t asked what

she should do with the knot

that was causing her terrible trouble

she’d be sitting right there

with a full head of hair

and not running her fingers through stubble.

I’d requested she sit

while I looked at the bit

that she said always tangles and frizzes

and I have to confess

I’ve created a mess.

I should never have picked up the scissors.

©  Jenny Erlanger

D  O     N O T    D I S T U R B

I feel impatient to begin my quest

My card is clutched tightly to my chest,

As I enter this place where ideas reside

This amazing space wherein worlds can collide:

The past, the present and future days –

In a profusion of factual and fictional ways

I feel a hunger, but I must explain

The urge I have is to feed my brain

With words and images that intertwine

To create an experience, uniquely mine:

Be it action, adventure, romance or mystery,

Fantastic or funny or all about history

I feel the need, the need to read

And in this library, I shall succeed

I will peruse those books that catch my eye

And I will choose just one to take aside

Then I warn you, in case you have not heard

I am longing to read – so do not disturb!

© Irene Buckler

LILLI BLACK SWAN

Lilli Black Swan

takes her time,

swims and dips

in water and slime.

She likes to glide

and is never topsy-turvy.

Is it just because

the water’s so curvy?

© Katherine Gallagher

TWO THOUGHTS FOR PAULINA AND WILL

1

The seamstress sea edges the beach

with a trim of lace,

then quickly takes it back again

to sew white ruffles on the breaking waves.

2

There can be no finer meal than this —

fish-and-chips on a sunlit beach

with you–

and just a pinch of sand.

© Anne Bell

Uncle Quimby’s Quandock

Uncle Quimby had a quandock – a champion of its breed;

he fed it tripe and honey; exercised it on a lead.

But quandocks can be vicious pets, as everybody knows,

and Uncle’s crimson quandock liked to chew on human toes!

It all became too much for him.  So, hobbling into town,

he swapped it for a snoogle — vegetarian and brown.

Carolyn Eldridge-Alfonzetti

(First published in The School Magazine – Countdown, June 2007 [Vol. 92 No. 5] Acknowledgement requested if published elsewhere)

The Best Dog in the Universe

Found in a quarry

Of origins unknown,

Turbo is his name – he is

TURB-tastic, TURB-acious, TURB-iffic!

A tail-chasing tornado,

An explorer of backyards, own and other,

A maker of many friends – he is

TURB-tastic, TURB-acious, TURB-iffic!
A lover of sticks and twigs in fact

Branches of any kind, hurled or lobbed,

An Olympic canine paddler – he is

TURB-tastic, TURB-acious, TURB-iffic!

Stretched out on the terrace watching the stars

He protects, a snake-alert cat alarm,

Waiting for snacks, for pats and to play – he is

TURB-tastic, TURB-acious, TURB-iffic!

© Louise Molloy

A Crackerjack Party

Near Trickle Falls where gums grow tall

And lacy tree ferns grow

A cheerful chap, Wally Wombat

Met Crackerjack the crow.

‘Come in. Come in’ he beckoned his friend

‘Please won’t you stay for  tea’

Crackerjack just  tipped his cap

And accepted graciously.

There they sat, they had a chat

And sipped their billy brew

And as the sun was going down

The evening shadows grew,

The crow he sighed I’m not yet tired

Let’s throw a fancy ball

With silverware and fancy fare

And fancy dress and all

‘A splendid thought, I think we ought”

Said Wally in a flash

‘My costume’s grand, best in the land

I’m sure to make a splash’

They chose a place, they cleared some space

The animals soon arrived

In costumes they’d had ready made

Or simply had contrived

The bilby was a bumble bee

The possum was Tarzan

A numbat was  a birthday cake

Wrapped in marzipan

The blue tongue skink was draped in pink

Red kangaroo in blue

Exactly what the dingo was

No one really knew

Crackerjack, with coat and hat

Was dressed as  the Mad Hatter

The wombat offered fairy bread

Served on a silver platter

Wally stood out, walking about

In the costume that he wore

With a toothy grin and tiny limbs

A T-rex dinosaur

The big bush band took to the stand

And rocked out loud and strong

The bowerbirds knew ever word

And they just sang along

It was an awesome do, the animals knew

And some were heard to say

Without a doubt the best night out

Since the Bush Week Jamboree

They sang and danced and laughed and pranced

Until the night was through

And in the morn they all went home

Through mist and morning dew

‘Well that was fun, now that it’s done’

Wally whispered to his friend

Let’s invite them back, dear Crackerjack

And we’ll do it all again’

© Allan Cropper

January 2015

The Great Sock Hunter

Some cats like catnip,

some like toys with bells,

but I like socks

and their funny smells.

I catch socks from the laundry,

or from under the bed,

from the neighbour’s sock drawer,

or from the line instead.

I stalk, then pounce –

the shocked sock has a fright

and doesn’t put up

much of a fight.

I carry my prize

back to my lair,

behind the curtain,

there’s a mountain back there.

Then I hear my mistress,
“Have you seen my socks, John?

That’s the fifth pair this week.

Where have they all gone?”

“I don’t know dear.

Socks can’t just disappear.

We’ll have a good look,

they must be ‘round here.”

But I’ve outsmarted them all,

I think you’ll agree,

for I am the Great Sock Hunter.

No sock is safe from me!

© Vanessa Proctor

Mighty Marron

In the fresh cool water

of the swimming hole

lived a mighty marron

‘bout ten years old

He’d seen it all

this wily thing

round netted traps

bacon dangled on string

“Come on little yabby”

he’d hear them call

“Come taste this bait-

it’s nice and raw!”

But this smart crayfish

knew better than that

he’d sniff a trick

in two seconds flat

He’d lay down low

on flat dark rocks

waiting sleepily

tick-tock, tick-tock

He’d heard the tales

of cooking pots

of melted butter

and eschalots

Of bisque, étouffée

a sauce from roux

of crawfish boils

all this he knew

So careful he’d be

when things came close

to tempt him out

for lobster roast

‘til one cloudy day

at that swimming hole

when someone sat down

and dangled their toe

It looked so strange

that rounded thing

so pink and plump

no sign of a string

So up he crept

that tricksy marron

with one great claw

he pinched right down on

“Yeow!” it cried

“Something’s bitten my toe!

“There’s a creature in there!

Quick catch it!” So…

That crafty marron

he let go fast

of that plump round toe

that clever cast

Another trap!

this one was new

but there was just no way

he’d be yabby stew!

© Kristina Hoy