Yearly Archives: 2015

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I Want to go to School

by Ron Barton

 

A big girl of four and a young boy of two

were walking with their mum and dad through the zoo.

To see all the animals made both children smile

but it also made them tired so they stopped for a while.

 

They snacked on some treats that mum made before

when dad pointed out something that he saw:

a group of fish swimming around in a pool.

“Did you know,” the dad said, “that they call that a school.”

 

“I’ll go to school soon,” said little Miss Four.

“Me too,” said the boy – it was hard to ignore.

It was clear to the parents that their little boy

would miss his big sister. It gave them no joy.

 

And so they decided, that they must set things straight

before it got out of hand, before it was too late.

“Not yet,” said the dad. “It’s just not your turn,

you’re not old enough to go to school and learn.”

 

“The boy started crying, he just didn’t get

that he wasn’t quite ready to go to school yet.

He was a ‘big boy’, a baby no more –

why couldn’t he go to school with Miss Four?

 

“It’s ok, son,” said the mum. “Dry your tears,

you won’t go to school for a couple more years.

There’s a number of things you must learn before

you can go to school with little Miss Four.”

 

“That’s right,” said the dad. “I can think of some.

Like, you must no longer wear a nappy on your bum.

And while you know your whole alphabet

There are other things that you need to learn yet.”

 

“Just think,” added mum, “about how well you count

but you only know up to a certain amount.

You can do up to ten but little Miss Four

can count to 100 and sometimes even more.”

 

The tears had dried up, a change had occurred.

The young boy was now hanging on every word.

“And plus,” said the mum, “it isn’t all bad,

you’ll get to stay with me without Miss Four and Dad.”

 

“Just think of all of the games that we’ll play

and the fun things we’ll do when it’s just us all day.

We’ll get to bake cookies and sing songs and draw,

then we’ll walk up to the school to pick up Miss Four.”

 

“Ok,” said the boy and he started to grin

but Miss Four had been listening and she wanted in.

“That’s not fair,” she said. “I want to stay home.”

Then Mum and Dad let out a collective groan.

It didn’t seem like they could win either way

and so they left this fight for another day.

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MY BRAIN IS FULL

by Allan Cropper

 

‘I’ve examined you quite thoroughly,’

Is what my doctor said.

‘It seems there’s too much empty space

existing in your head.’

‘The vast expanse between your ears

Is that which makes you ill.

It’s far too great a cavity

for your small brain to fill.

You need to go expand your mind,

to fill the empty void,

if rattling noise inside your head

you’re wishing to avoid.’

 

So I went to the library

and took out lots of books.

Reading lots of stories is

much harder than it looks.

I read and read and read and read

each day, right after school.

 

I read and read and read and read

until my brain was full.

I read stories about pirates,

I read stories about sport.

I read stories about heroes

and the battles that they fought.

I read stories of adventurers

in the jungles dark and green,

stories of explorers finding

lands no one had seen.

 

I read fiction books, non-fiction books,

and reference books as well.

And very soon I noticed

that my brain began to swell.

I fear I overfilled my brain

‘Cause it just grows and grows,

and now my poor expanding brain

Leaks out my ears and nose.

So doctor can you tell me how

to keep my brain in check?

My brain keeps oozing out my head

and down my face and neck.

 

If my brain keeps on expanding

I’m afraid my skull will crack

Quite frankly, Doc, I’d rather have

That awful rattle back.

 

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Bird bomb

by Jenny Erlanger

 

From morning to evening its scream can be heard,

a warning to all from this dive-bombing bird.

My brother’s too frightened to venture outdoors.

He’s already suffered a scratch from its claws

and Dad has to run from the house to the shed

his arms waving stupidly over his head.

It happens the moment we step out of place,

that flurry of feathers, that beak in the face.

So, hurry up babies and fly from your nest.

Your mother’s becoming a serial pest.

 

 

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Old Fred and Kazinsky

by Mike Lucas

 

Old Fred never knew where Kazinsky went to every night when he opened the door.

That cat would run free and he’d sprint up the tree to the roof, then away to explore.

He’d hear a faint howl and then sometimes a growl and then nothing until the next day

When Kazinsky returned, but Old Fred never learned where he went till he looked far away.

 

Now Old Fred had no job (he was old), but a hobby he had was to gaze at the stars

And the planets and moon (with its seas and its dunes). He would spend all night gazing afar.

One night as he gazed out his window and raised his old telescope up to a crater

He had to look twice when he saw several mice running round with a mouse sized cheese grater.

 

‘Mice on the moon!’ shouted Fred in a swoon. ‘Mice on the moon! It can’t be!’

It can’t be moon mice! It can’t be, I say twice. But I see moon mice! That’s what I see!’

He rubbed at his eyes, looked again at the skies, at the moon, at the…what on Earth’s that?

Then out from a dune on the moon mice’s moon sprang a moon…m…m…moon c…c…cat!

 

‘Kazinsky!’ yelled Fred, as the moon mice all fled, leaving clouds of cheese dust in their wake.

‘Kazinsky!’ yelled Fred. ‘It’s Kazinky!’ yelled Fred. ‘It’s Kazinsky and make no mistake!’

In and out the moon’s holes, up and down the moon’s knolls, the wee moon mice ran eeking and squeaking.

They poked out their tongues and they wobbled their bums while Kazinsky chased after them, shrieking.

 

At times the moon wobbled while moon mice were gobbled and moon cheese flew this way and that.

Some leapt for the stars, but they didn’t get far for Kazinsky the cat chased them back.

At one point there landed a spaceship commanded by aliens from far away,

And Kazinsky sold mice to them for twice the price of what Earthlings would normally pay.

 

This madness went on more than half the night long as the moon swam away from the east.

And let it be said that the cat of Old Fred had a handsome and heavenly feast.

As the sun started rising on the eastern horizon the moon met the Earth in the west,

And Kazinsky stepped down to the new morning’s ground to prowl home for a well deserved rest.

 

Kazinsky arrived at just gone half past five as Old Fred nodded off where he sat.

Through the window he crept as Old Fred soundly slept, dreaming  dreams of an astronaut cat.

He strolled to the chair and at Fred sleeping there and he settled down onto his lap,

And Kazinsky the cat and Old Fred, just like that, spent the whole day enjoying a nap.

 

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Brown Honeyeaters

By Helen Hagemann

 

A brilliant blue rising from a bronze morning

and Brown Honeyeaters are circling the garden.

 

Today, they are in the olive tree in my neighbour’s

yard, performing aerial songs (although it’s more a short

 

sharp, tweep!). Before spring, I counted two regular

visitors to our horticulture of Canna lilies, Yellow

 

Bird-of-Paradise, Grevillea, Frangipani, now there are

four! As if in concert, they dance, plunging to and fro.

 

It’s balletic, reminding you of Rudolf Nureyev and Dame

Margot Fontein in Romeo and Juliet. One of the

 

fledgelings is as graceful as Maria Kochetkova, a

Giselle fluttering her wings, thin as the veil of a tutu.

 

There’s fussing from parents, followed by a preen on

brick wall and hedge, a bird commotion of tutelage.

 

The best is their closeness, high in the branches, and now

that the young are fed and sleepy, the show has stopped.

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Postcard From Mars
by Allan Cropper

There’s a trillion stars
and one of them’s Mars,
and that’s where I’m wanting to go.
It shines brightly red
‘mongst stars overhead,
a warming and welcoming glow.
A star it not be?
No difference to me.
It lives way out there in deep space.
Can’t save for a house
on this planet of ours
so I’m thinking that Mars is the place.
I’m planning a trip,
booked on a space ship
that’s due to depart in the spring.
I will be space suited,
luggage is included,
I will not be packing a thing.
I’ll have all new neighbours,
they live in the craters,
antennae on top of their head.
They ‘re tiny and green,
but they’re easily seen
‘gainst a backdrop of nothing but red.
So wish me good luck
as I pack my space truck
to head off to the great unknown.
Don’t worry at all,
I’ll give you a call
if I can get bars on my phone.
I’ll try for a while,
continue to dial,
I’ll contact you, never you fear.
If I can’t get through
a post card will do,
that simply says ‘Wish you were here’.

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Blue and red

by Sophie Masson

 

All the day long, the bluebird sings,

High in the trees, high on the wing.

 

All the day long, the red cow eats,

Moos and eats, moos and eats.

 

All the night long, the blue dog howls,

Keeps up the neighbours with his sad yowls.

 

All the night long, the red fox prowls,

Watch out you farmers, lock up your fowls!

 

 

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Summer Night

by Kaye Baillie

 

Too hot to sleep, kick off sheet,

tiptoe downstairs

and out into the cool night air.

 

Earth’s night light so still and round,

resting in a blanket of stars.

 

A creaking board,

movement,

a hug,

Mum’s out here too.

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Did you now?

by Neridah McMullin

 

Thought I might stay

Home today.

Safe.

Secure.

Did you now?

 

Thought I might

Miss you,

too

Much.

Did you now?

 

Thought maybe

Cos’ you’re smart,

You could

Homeschool me?

Did you now?

 

The house needs

A vacuum.

Doggy doo to

Be picked up,

So much work.

Didn’t you know?

 

Thought I might,

But now…

I think

I miss my friends.

I’ll go get ready.

You go do that now.

 

 

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When Sammy Woke Up One Morning

By Pamela Ueckerman

 

When Sammy woke up one morning,
He discovered a note by his bed,
“I’m travelling up to the North Pole,
To meet the toy maker,” it said.

“We’ve been together forever,”
The letter continued to say,
“And now you no longer need me,
I’ve decided to go away.”

“I know that you got me for Christmas,
That I was left under the tree,
I came through the chimney with Santa,
As he was the one who made me.”

“So I’m leaving this morning to meet him,
Don’t know if I’ll ever be back,
But watch out for something this Christmas,
That Santa may bring in his sack.”

The signature down at the bottom,
Was hurriedly scribbled in blue,
The name that it spelled out so simply,
Was that of his teddy bear Boo.

Now Sammy was quivering sadly,
He’d miss his favourite friend,
The bond that he had with his teddy,
Had come to a curious end.

Meanwhile in Sammy’s back garden,
Our brave bear was not far at all,
He’d been smuggled outside with the laundry,
But couldn’t climb over the wall.

He thought that his travels were over,
He hung his poor head in despair,
When at once a grey pigeon named Peter,
Hoisted him into the air.

They travelled for hours and hours,
Over mountain and desert and sea,
When at last the pigeon released him,
And Boo landed BUMP in a tree.

He looked all around and below him,
He didn’t know how far he’d come,
But the coldness was making him shiver,
And his poor little nose was quite numb.

He spotted an eagle close by him,
And begged for a ride to go forth,
A ship took him into the Arctic,
And from there on it wasn’t far north.

As Christmas grew nearer and nearer,
So Boo journeyed on to the end,
And Sammy grew yet more excited,
To learn what he’d get from his friend.

As dawn broke on Christmas Day morning,
Sammy could not wait to see,
Had Boo Bear succeeded his mission?
What would there be under the tree?

But just then he noticed his stocking,
Right there at the end of his bed,
And poking right out of the top,
Was a tattered teddy bear head.

The head was dirty and soggy,
And matted with leaves and mud too,
But Sammy jumped up in amazement,
For that teddy bear head was his Boo!

With care he took Boo from the stocking,
And gently he shook off some dirt,
Then Sammy saw something intriguing,
A letter was pinned to Boo’s shirt!

Sammy unpinned it with caution,
And opened it there on the bed,
The note was signed “Boo” at the bottom,
And following is what it said:

“I’ve travelled the world to the Arctic,
And what an adventure I’ve had,
I met with the reindeer and Santa,
But now that I’m home I’m quite glad.”

Well Sammy could not quite believe it,
The bear was back home safe and well,
And as to all of Boo’s secrets,
Sadly the bear wouldn’t tell.

Now Boo and the boy are quite happy,
They travel around having fun,
And as for the bear and his letters,
Since then there hasn’t been one.