Listen to my stunning news
I met a rabbit wearing shoes
One was red and one was green
The oddest pair I’d ever seen
One had clips and one had laces–
Tangerine to match his braces
He had a pom-pom on his hat
No other clothes—imagine that!
Ker-plop
ker-plop
Will it never stop?
That dripping tap
keeps dripping
dripping
dripping
ker-plop
ker-plop
plip-plop
plip-plop
I hear every single drop.
That leaking tap
keeps nipping
nipping
nipping at my brain
while water keeps on dripping
dripping
dripping
down the drain
ker-plop
ker-plop
please someone make it stop.
That leaking tap
ker-plop
ker-plop
Is driving me insane.
The sun is low behind us
as we contemplate the view,
a vista to remind us
that we’re part of nature too.
We happily surrender
to the grandness of this spot
and know within its splendor
that we’re nothing but a dot.
Our shadows, in defiance,
take a more aggressive stand.
A family of giants
makes its mark upon the land.
LAND
by Marsala Strachan
I am frightening.
I can be made from lightning.
One small spark brought me awake.
I am winding like a big red snake.
I am like a blood red wall.
I am the beast that ate it all.
My flames flickered, I crept.
I snickered and then … I leapt.
I am roaring.
Catching every bird that is soaring.
Leave a door open long enough
and an earwig will enter. The kitchen
is the most popular to travel in.
Among insects a decision is made
(those of different species)
not to touch or pass by in the hallway.
An ant and earwig might come together
and part, safe in the knowledge
that when one leaves another arrives.
It’s the past meeting the future
simultaneously.
Whichever direction an earwig goes,
it will be one fast step
from the swish of a dog’s tail,
or the pounce of a cat’s paw.
Outdoors, earwigs forage in drains, leaf litter.
They love the chemistry of winter air,
the heavy crash of rain, a blue sky when it stops.
Sometimes you find an earwig sleeping between
the sheets of the morning newspaper,
although a quick flap or roll
over discarded scraps
can be fatal.
Soap-fish, soap-fish, slipping through my fingers,
Soap-dish, soap-dish, sailing like a boat.
Toothbrush, toothbrush, turning into long-ship,
Hairbrush, hairbrush, learning how to float.
Look! One hand’s a submarine,
The other a breaching whale,
My toes are pointed coral rocks,
There’s the splash of a dolphin’s tail!
My bath’s become an ocean,
And I’m the sailor bold
Who roams the wild blue yonder–
Until the water gets cold!
Mum said I shouldn’t worry
that I didn’t need the doc,
that I’d clear away the cobwebs
with a walk around the block
So I went and fetched my sneakers
and I did what I was told.
I grabbed my woollen beanie
and I stepped out in the cold.
The walk was quite refreshing.
quite a joy, I’d have to say
but it didn’t help at all
to make the cobwebs go away.
It might have been less trouble
if I’d gone into my room
and poked into the corners
of my ceiling with a broom.
Forest wakes,
Brand new day.
Mother stretching,
Orang-utans play.
Little-ones rolling,
Little-ones tumbling.
Little-ones swinging,
Little-ones fumbling.
A sudden rumbling,
Looks of worry.
Engines roaring,
Little-ones scurry.
Forest falling,
Can’t find cover.
Little-ones scampering,
Can’t find Mother.
Engines blaring,
Forest bare.
Trees smouldering,
Nothing there.
Engines ceasing,
Mother enraged.
Trucks retreating,
Little-one’s caged.
Sun setting,
Forest dying.
Earth shattering,
Orang-utan crying.
It was a new school, I was the young fool
It wasn’t long till I saw you
I made my mind up not to waste any time
till I first knocked on your door
You had a style, you had your smile
I wasn’t sure I had the nerve
I had a friend with me for moral support
When I first knocked on your door
I won’t forget that moment;
waiting for you to appear.
A look of pleasant surprise and…
then you asked me in.
Oh yeah!
That was the first time, but not the last time
That I was seen at your place
My parents ask me why I’m never at home
Since I first knocked on your door.
ENTER
Photo: Neil Mulligan
We blow them in streams
across the yard,
some small and marble-sized,
others as big as baseballs.
Every bubble iridescent,
a perfect world of its own,
mirroring grass, sky,
occasionally our faces.
Bubbles glinting with sunlight
swirl skyward or
float to the ground.
Each one
a little miracle
before it pops.
Australian Children’s Poetry 