Poem of the Day




Wake late

Nothing clean

Wear yesterday’s undies

Crushed uniform

Sister’s socks

She screams at me

Mum screams at me

We scream at one another

We’re running late

Jammed in bumper-to-bumper traffic

Kiss Mum goodbye, no way

Across the empty playground

Running, I drop

The paper Mache dinosaur

That took four hours

Last night

Of hard, hard work

My project

Now it’s crushed, like me

Late for assembly

Everyone stares

Teachers’ eyebrows are raised

And classes haven’t even begun.

© Dianne Bates

(Published in Our Home is Girt by Sea)

  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #26

Poetry Prompt #26

Poem of the Day


Winter Picnic


One picnic with my family I would rather now forget,

Since it started with a thunderstorm that left us very wet.

We ran like rabbits to the car and tried to eat our lunch,

But our sandwiches were soggy and our biscuits lacked their crunch.


We aimed to keep the rain out so we wound the windows up,

But that just made them foggy. Then I dropped my half-full cup!

My parents weren’t too pleased with me as anyone could tell

And then the baby filled the car with a most awful smell!


At last we saw the rain had stopped, so quickly we got out.

Mum changed the baby’s nappy. It was then Dad gave a shout.

“Oh no, we’ve run over a nail!” He’d found a tyre was flat.

So we weren’t going anywhere till he had dealt with that.


While Dad was working on the wheel, I got my brand new ball.

I kicked it high into a tree, but it refused to fall!

So then I said: “I’ll climb the tree and shake the football down.”

But Mum said: “You’ll do no such thing” and stopped me with a frown.


I didn’t want to lose the ball, but what would you have done?

It looked as if I’d have to save to buy another one.

Just then a teenage boy came by. He said: “Leave it to me.”

At once he climbed up to the branch and shook the football free!


I tried to catch it as it fell, but Mum caught it instead.

She didn’t catch it in her hands. It landed on her head!

I thought it wasn’t wise to laugh in case she was upset.

She’d told me not to bring the ball. I hoped that she’d forget.


When finally Dad changed the tyre, he said: “It’s time to go.

Those heavy clouds are coming back. The journey will be slow.”

I moaned: “An hour here’s not enough. We need some time to play!”

But Mum declared: “Your Dad is right. Let’s come another day.”


Although this time our picnic didn’t seem much fun at all,

We did arrive home safely and I still had my new ball.

The baby now is chuckling and we’re by the fire and warm.

It still was an adventure, even with the winter storm.

 Monty Edwards
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #24

Poetry Prompt #24Monty says: Some picnics are memorable for the wrong reasons, but even if not exactly enjoyable they can still supply some interesting and humorous experiences.

Poem of the Day


Humungous Fungus

Humungous Fungus is among us

And it’s rather smelly.

It slowly creeps between your toes

Then right up to your belly.


It can be blue but when it’s pink

It gives off such an awful stink.

Sometimes it floats down in the breeze

And leaves great blobs on both your knees.


When it sparkles like a fairy

Then you must be very wary.

If it waves its magic wand

You’ll smell like slime from next door’s pond.


Beware if Fungus goes to school

It doesn’t care who looks a fool.

Your teacher might get quite a shock

If Fungus hides inside his sock.


If poor Grandma while she’s sitting

Concentrating on her knitting

Notices a sudden pull

It’s Fungus climbing up her wool.


Even Mum must be quite careful

She might cop a blobby hair full

If she happens to be shopping

Right where Fungus slime is dropping.


Family pets should run and hide

‘Cos Fungus loves to slip and slide

Into kennels, baskets, cages

Sending critters into rages.


But Fungus loathes a water spray

So get yourself one right away

And squirt that fiend with all your might

You’ll be a hero overnight.

Pat Simmons
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #25

Poetry Prompt #25

Poetry Prompt #26

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Poetry Prompt #26


Pens poised? Brain in gear? Feeling creative? Here’s this week’s Poetry Prompt. What sort of children’s poem does it inspire you to write? Thank you to everyone who’s been so enthusiastically taking part in this creative exercise and please keep your poems coming in. I so enjoy reading them. Don’t forget you can catch up with a prompt at any time. Send your poems to traffa-m@bigpond.net.au as a Word document attachment and add a personal note to let me know about your writing process or what it was about this prompt that triggered your poem.

Happy writing!


Poem of the Day


Sound advice


Sometimes when you’re out of sorts

and wound up like a spring

or plagued with nasty, angry thoughts

it really helps to sing.


Sing out loud, you can’t go wrong,

sing anything you choose.

There’s nothing like a happy song

to chase away the blues.

Jenny Erlanger
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #22

Poetry Prompt #22

Poem of the Day


The Lost Things


They must be all around me —

the lost things,

My best pencil, my first doll,

a single sock,

the locket Mum gave me

for my seventh birthday,

the one I promised to never lose.


They lurk in dusky corners,

and grooves and places

I can’t begin to think of

Loving their freedom

Camouflaging their grins

Watching me as I search everywhere —


But where they are

Those clever, clever, lost things

Forever playing hide

While I play seek.

Dianne Bates


Poem of the Day

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Noisy world poem


If I lie still

So still and true

No wriggle

No rustle







Hum and roar

And rise and

Fall and crash

And surge of

The gushing


Urgent sucking

Retreating and


That never stops

Bound to its constant action


Yet lording over

Its often

Ignorant subjects

And dreamy admirers

This sea will be heard

And I will listen.

Elizabeth Cummings
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #25


Poem of the Day


One Little Raindrop


One little raindrop

Arrives on my nose

Dangles a moment

Then splashes my toes


Slides down my pinkie

Lands on the grass

Washes a blade so

It glimmers like glass


One little raindrop

Joins with its mates

A cackling creek

That skitters and skates


On through the forests

And meadows it snakes

Merges with rivers

That pour into lakes


One little raindrop

Drawn out to sea

Plays with the dolphins

A long way from me


Out comes the sunshine

Blazing and high

Hauls up that raindrop

Far into the sky


One little raindrop

Now it’s a cloud

Here is the thunder

Looming and loud


Quick! Run for shelter

Before the storm blows

As one little raindrop

Arrives on my nose

Sharon Hammad
  • Sharon says: I wrote it in response to Poetry Prompt #15 ‘In Winter’ during the Big Wet Weekend we had recently. I was thinking about how to explain the water cycle to children.Poetry Prompt15


Poetry Prompt #25

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Poetry Prompt #25

Sound? Taste? Energy? Something else entirely? What does this image suggest to you? I can’t wait to read your responses. Remember, we’re looking for poems for young people. Occasionally a poem for adult readers has been submitted in response to these weekly prompts and while I do enjoy reading them, unfortunately I can’t post them on the site.

Thank you to everyone who’s been so enthusiastically taking part in this creative exercise and please keep your poems coming in. Send them to traffa-m@bigpond.net.au as a Word document attachment and add a personal note about why or how you chose to write this particular poem.

Happy writing!


Poem of the Day


Count-up to Planet Bed


I’m one for the window

and two for the door.


I’m three for the ceiling

and four for the floor.


I’m five for the morning

and six for the night.


I’m seven for the stairs

and eight for the light.


I’m nine for a story

and ten for my bed.


Now I’m off for a dream

to hold in my head.


Katherine Gallagher

(Published in Toothpaste Trouble (ed. Nick Toczek, Macmillan, 2002)

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #23

Poetry Prompt #22

Katherine says: Going to bed isn’t always a happy time but it can be made fun with ‘ a one-step-at-a-time’ count-up. Your Poetry Prompt #23 reminded me of this situation.