Poem of the Day

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Charlie’s Lunch

 

Oops!

I’ve got my brother’s lunchbox

With The Wiggles on the lid,

He must have picked up mine instead

(He’s just a little kid.)

So Charlie’s got my health bar

And my favourite yoghurt snack,

And I’ve got little kiddie lunch –

Too late to change it back.

I could go and see the teacher,

But she’ll say, “Don’t bother me,”

I guess I’m stuck with Charlie’s lunch,

I’ll be half starved by three.

 

Here we go….what is this stuff?

One tin of custard pears,

Two egg and lettuce sandwiches

Cut into tiny squares,

Three cherry drops with jelly tops,

Four skinny carrot sticks,

Five cubes of watermelon, no,

You’d better make that six.

And right down at the bottom is-

What’s this! A chocolate crunch!

WOW!

Where’s my place? I need some space,

I’m having Charlie’s lunch.

 Jill McDougall
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

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Poetry Prompt #9

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It’s poetry playtime and I’ve got a tricky challenge for you this week. It’s going to be fun seeing what poems you can come up with that include all of these words. I’m expecting lots of humour. Let your imagination roam and see where it takes you.

Send your submissions to me via email to teenawriter@gmail.com as a Word or Text document attachment and add a line or two about your writing process.

Happy writing!

Teena

Poem of the Day

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THE BATTLE

 

On a Monday wet and cool,

I decided on a day off school.

 

‘Get up at once,’ my mother said,

So I threw up all over the bed.

 

I groaned about feeling really horrid,

She only had to feel my forehead.

 

I knew I was sick with something contagious,

But her disbelief was really outrageous.

 

I clung to my bed, so she just got meaner,

And bashed me with the vacuum cleaner.

 

The blood that flowed from my bleeding nose,

She washed away with the garden hose.

 

She hit me with the old straw broom,

And kept chasing me from room to room.

 

At last she drove me out of the house,

And called me a dirty conniving louse.

 

I threatened to fling myself under the bus,

Determined to end this dreadful fuss.

 

When thrown on the bus with a parting curse,

I knew that life couldn’t get much worse.

 

Still dripping blood, an awful bother,

The driver threw me back to mother.

 

Didn’t she scowl as she made the decision,

That I could stay home and watch television.

 

Margaret Pearce
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

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Poem of the Day

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Message in a bottle

Message in a bottle

Sent from a land far away

Message in a bottle

In the sand to stay

Message in a bottle

Special words inside

Message in a bottle

The sea no longer hides

Message in a bottle

Out there for all to see

Message in a bottle

Is this message sent to me?

Jeanie Axton
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #7

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Poem of the Day

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Ultrasonic Singers

 

Mice are nice

to keep as pets.

They’re quiet little things.

But when they’re happy

you can bet

your pet mice like to sing.

 

Their complex songs

both short and long

make each mouse quite unique.

So other mice

know in a trice

who made that special squeak.

 

Our ears can’t hear

their high-pitched trill.

Mice sing in ultra-sound.

But sneaky cats

will get a thrill

to hear that food’s around!

 

Celia Berrell
  • Celia writes poems about science topics, aimed at upper primary-age students.  The CSIRO’s Double Helix children’s science magazine has been publishing her science poems since 2010.

Poem of the Day

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Memories

 

The bottle on the beach was green,

In the most beautiful tint I have seen.

But other bottles from my past

Were mostly white.

 

The empties waited at the gate in a crate.

When the milkman was late,

I’d wait at the gate till he arrived.

The Milkie came with a loaded horse-pulled cart.

He’d run beside it as the horse moved slow

And he moved fast.

 

My mother would send me out with a shovel

After he’d gone, to collect the manure

For her roses, hydrangeas, and fuchsias

Whose blooms were so full and wide,

They leaned against

The fence like fat ladies dressed in coloured ball gowns.

 

The bottles were smaller at school,

With strawberry and chocolate flavoured straws

For the lucky ones,

Who would let me have them when

They were finished.

I’d save them in my desk for the next day.

But I was always grateful

To just suck the milk from the bottle,

Even on hot summer days

When it had waited too long in the sun

For playtime to come around.

 

Those innocent days are all gone.

Like sand at the beach

They got swept out to sea,

To be brought back again to land on the tide.

My memories will always call back

Days with white bottles that sparkled

With the morning light, and tinted green

Ones found submerged on the beach

During Sunday School picnics.

Anastasia Gonis ©
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #7

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Anastasia said: I thought this picture inspiring. As you can see, it created a daisy chain of memories together with the smell of the horse manure I’d collect for my mother as a child. I can recall the clink of bottles and the sound of the horses’ hooves on the bitumen.

Poem of the Day

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Star Wishing

Space was a glittering,

Glamorous eyeful

So I wished for a star—

But I got a sky full.

They covered the floor

Like sparkling snow;

They lit up the house

With a dazzling glow.

They caught in my hair,

They filled up my lap;

They poured like diamonds

From the kitchen sink tap.

The Milky Way draped me,

A burning white shawl.

Constellations were bright

Works of art down the hall.

The Southern Cross

Pointed me onto the lawn.

I looked to the sky;

It was bare and forlorn.

So I wished them away;

They returned to the night.

I should not wish again.

I should not—but I might.

Jessica Nelson

Poetry Prompt #35

Jessica said: Star Wishing is my response to 2016 poetry prompt #35 (Stars). I read a lot of picture books and I’ve noticed that wishing for (and often getting hold of) a star is  a common theme. This made me wonder how things would go if instead of getting one star, the wisher got a galaxy’s worth.