It’s a dog’s life

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It’s a dog’s life

Quick and alert,
sincere and intelligent.
Brings things home
or stays out late.

Gets into mischief,
Sniffs-out the new.
Bolts down food
until too full to move.

Admired for loyalty,
brave personality.
Always protecting
immediate family.

Laze-round all day,
work hard or learn tricks.
Dog or dog-person
you’ll find this list fits!

Celia Berrell


Tuckerbox Rocks

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Poor ole Rooster. Head on the block
Poor ole Rooster. Time for the wok
This be the year of the Dog off the Box
Twenty Eighteen the Tuckerbox Rocks

The blue gums are still growing
The Murrumbidgee is still flowing
There’s a dog while he’s waiting
A howling success he’s creating
Beneath that sunny sky
Along the road to Gundagai

Goodbye Rooster. You’ve been cool.
Time to chuck it in. Tuckerbox Rule.
Pee Mail the Trees. Pee Mail the Ground.
A’ peein’ and a’ weein’ in The Year of the Hound

Ghostly Nobby just blinks a bleary eye
Team’s still bogged just out from Gundagai
Bowyang Yorke can’t believe his luck
A’dancing with Mabel ‘cos the team is stuck

Matilda is a waltzing to a hip-hop beat
She sure is nimble on her tiny feet
Singin’ in the shade of that Coolabah tree
Won’t you come a Waltzing Matilda with me?
This is the year when the Tuckerbox Rocks
Dance in your shoes. Prance in your sox
Dance with the Dog whose real dinki di
He’s a’rollin’ and a’rockin’ down Gundagai.

Robyn Youl 2018.




It’s quarter to four
and you’re at the door –
I hear your tail thumping
and bumping the floor –
and while I’m delighted
that you’re so excited
to know that it’s time
to be reunited,
it would make me grin,
(in fact, we’d both win),
if you’d move a little
so that I could get in!

By Kylie Covark


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Jeremy James Johnson was a very naughty boy.
Fatty fried junk foods were all that he’d enjoy.

Now Jeremy had a little dog, his name was Mut
He sat under the table, his mouth never shut.

Mut liked cauliflour, carrots and celery stewed,
He ate every scrap because he just liked food.

So Jeremy was able to show a plate scraped clean,
And demand two helpings of chocolate ice cream.

He got away with this for month after month,
Jeremy got thinner and Mut strong and plump.

Jeremy looked at Mut who shared his day,
And saw how fast he ran around to play.

“Mut’s not tired and runs faster than me.
Why does he still have so much energy?’

His father with glee got to Jeremy at last.
“Mut eats all his vegies that’s why he’s fast.”

Jeremy James Johnson is now very very good.
He eats all his vegies as every child should.

And fatty fried foods make him feel very sick
Because Jeremy is now on a fitness kick.

Margaret Pearce


Teacher Notes: by Jeanie Axton

1. First of all this poem leads to discussions about food choices for both humans and dogs. This could lead to creating menus for both, covering all the food groups. Here are a few links “Australian Standards” for us and advise on food for our doggy friends.

Click to access n55i_australian_guide_to_healthy_eating.pdf

The 16th is Chinese New Year and the theme this year is “Year of the Dog”

2. There are a myriad of discussion points ranging from why and how the Chinese celebrate their new year through to their influences on Australian culture.
Well worth discussing the way they were treated when they came over for the gold rush .
Here is a link that would be suitable for secondary students

3. You could for Junior Primary or Primary students set up a book display in your classroom of dog books. One of my all time favourites is “Walter the Farting Dog” It is very funny.
You could set up a display of photos of the students dogs.
And maybe even get them to write poems about their dogs. If you get them to write poems please send me a few and I’ll put them on the blog.
If your really brave you could have a bring in your Dog day.
Have fun it’s a great theme.

There’s someone for everyone

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There’s someone for everyone

Valentine Day was a lonely bloke,
Wherever he went, he was called a joke.
He parted his hair down the middle;
Under his arm he carried a fiddle.
His nose was big, his lips couldn’t smile,
The girls took one look and they ran a mile.
He couldn’t dance, and he couldn’t sing,
In fact, poor chap couldn’t do anything!

’Til the day he met a lonely girl,
On a chain round her neck she wore a pearl.
She parted her hair down the middle;
Under her arm she carried a fiddle.
Her nose was big, her lips couldn’t smile,
The boys took one look and they ran a mile.
She couldn’t dance and she couldn’t sing,
In fact, poor girl couldn’t do anything!

Valentine fell in love when they met;
Likewise Valentina — her heart was set.
Valentine asked, “Will you be my wife?”
“Yes,” she replied, “for the rest of my life!”

James Aitchison


Love and Money

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Love & Money

Love is like money.
We all want lots of it.
We know we deserve it,
so throw some our way!

Sometimes we win it
but often we lose it
or spend it unwisely,
regretting that day.

Some people find it
in rather strange places.
And some even steal it,
aware it’s not theirs.

Others may wear it.
Look radiant for it
while others invest it
and show that they care.

Some people hide it.
Forget how to find it.
They know it’s there somewhere
beneath many layers.

Gets taken for granted,
abused or just flaunted.
But you and I know
that we both like to share.

Celia Berrell



Prompt #3 “The Year of the Dog”


Good Morning,

Thankyou for the last week of contributions. If your poem hasn’t been posted yet it will be in time.

This week I have a couple of Valentine Days poems to post then from the 16th leading up to the 25th our prompt is the theme of this years Chinese New Year “The Year of The Dog”

Please send to:

Have fun writing


And todays quote:




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Elizabeth the water-dragon,
known for short as Liz,
has royal tastes and habits
but a very ugly phiz.

Her head is deep and angular,
her crown a crest of spines,
and if you offer pleasantries
she snootily declines.

With the hide of a rhinoceros
and an awful lot of cheek,
her gall is quite incredible
(Be grateful she can’t speak.)

‘Good day your Royal Scaliness.
You’ve really got a nerve.
You think your sneer from ear to ear
is something I deserve?

I’m offering you a dainty morsel
fit for any queen.
No need to eye it with disdain
or vent your royal spleen.

Your Royal Ugliness must know
I understand your game.
For all your airs and arrogance
you’re hungry just the same.

I know that when I turn my back
you’ll snatch it greedily
then look as if you’re charging me
with crime – Lèse majesté?’

© Kate O’Neil

Strange Creatures in the Night

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Strange Creatures in the Night.

I go outside and look around.
Bright lights, fast cars, quick pace, loud sounds.
Back indoors it’s just the same.
Electric noise; what is my aim?

Life is such a constant hustle;
A daily grind, a frightful bustle.
Round and round; a dizzy spin.
I wish to hear a dropping pin.

But what is this? The noise has stopped.
Oh dear! Oh no! The fridge switched off.
Computer, lights and radio,
Have all shut down – Why is it so?

Peacefully; tiptoe.
I go outside.

It’s dark with just a hint of glimmer.
A full moon rises to meet the shimmer
Of a zillion stars in the southern sky.
I breathe in deep; let out a sigh.

At ease;
In a leisurely manner.
I begin to wander.

A rustling sound! I’m terrified!
I try to find a place to hide.
The moonlight shadows shapes are scary.
Bunyips! Help! – They’re big, they’re hairy!

I cannot move! I’m panic-stricken!
But wait I see the plot does thicken.
A possum treads across my feet and scurries up an old gum-tree.
It glances back; my heart skips beats: A brush tail not a bunyip! See.

Composedly I stumble on.
My fear almost entirely gone.
A chorus: calming; echoes rhyming; rhythmic, placid, soulful blues.
Ribbit; ribbit; ribbit; ribbit… I take note and I muse.

And then a shock! I want to cry.
The moon has fallen from the sky.
It’s landed in the billabong.
So this is why the sad frog song.

What can I do? How can I help?
“Boobook, boobook.” What’s that I yelp?
The Bunyip! Shh! The frogs go quiet.
Oh please I do not want to fight.

And then I see a silhouette. Against the moon… back in the sky?
An owl perched high up on a tree branch. Not a bunyip. Phew! I sigh.
The frogs resume their old refrain.
And still the moon shall wax and wane.

The hours pass. The moon sets west.
A digging sound. I need a rest.
I bumble round and find a seat.
Oh dear! Oh me! This seat’s got feet!

It is the end! I have been caught!
I sniff; I stutter… indeed I snort.
Then suddenly I’m flying high.
The bunyip’s tossed me to the sky.

And as I come back down to earth,
The view, it fills my soul with mirth.
My home, set there; quite near the wild.
This night adventure; I am beguiled…

Ouch! I land with such a thud.
A graceless splat into the mud.
The dawn arrives with a different sound.
But just for now I homeward bound.

And by the way, I meant to say
That seat with feet by light of day
Was not a bunyip but a wombat.
And no, I’m not an acrobat!

By Louise McCarthy