“I am a Princess” by Louise McCarthy

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I know I didn’t mention it before,

But, I needed to be certain,

That you would be my friend,

If I were not a royal.


I normally don’t wear,

For I hate when people glare,

My tiara or my fancy dress;

I like to play and make a mess.


I never curtsy; goodness me!

I never make a royal decree.

I like to be with common folk.

Excuse me but did you just croak?


You see I am a princess

And I notice you’re a frog.

Perhaps if I just kiss you once,

You’ll hop off that old log.


You’ll become a prince – that’s fair.

You and I will be a pair.

And when we’re old enough to marry,

We’ll still pretend we’re ordinary.

By Louise McCarthy

“Let’s Pretend” by Stephanie Boase

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Let’s Pretend!


My home is a castle

Tall and grand

Set high on a hill

In a faraway land,

Where clouds are pink and

Horses stand

Guarding me

And my fairy band.


We play together

Till break of day,

Dance with the pixies

Then flutter away

On wings as light as snowflakes.


In the meadows and glades

With flowers fair;

Our playground dwells

Beyond compare,

Where daisy chains

I weave with care

And place them daintily

In my hair.


Here, each happy day

Is clear and bright,

Filled with magic

And delight!


“Bubble bubble boil and trouble” by Jessica Nelson-Tyers


Bubble, bubble, boil and trouble

Fill my cauldron on the double

With slime of frog and pooh of bear

And Daddy’s oldest underwear


With fish’s scales, mermaid’s nails,

Dragon’s breath and lizard’s tails

Tear of tiger, eye of slug

A squirt from the bum of a citrus bug


Look out! Daddy’s had a hunch

About what he just downed for lunch.

Bubble, trouble, had some fun,

Drop the cauldron, run, run, run!

Jessica Nelson-Tyers

“Ants in my pants” by Jenny Erlanger


Ants in my pants


There’s a bee in my bonnet,

I know I’ll be stung

but I can’t yell for help

’cause the cat’s got my tongue.

I’ve got rocks in my head,

my heart’s on my sleeve,

the frog in my throat

is refusing to leave

and I’m not really sure

what is going to become

of the butterflies fluttering

round in my tum.

To think that I nearly

forgot to include

that my leg is being pulled

and my ear is being chewed!

My patience with you

is just ready to crack.

I lent you a hand

and it hasn’t come back!

So sorry for making

a big song and dance

but there’s more on my mind

than the ants in my pants!

Jenny Erlanger


“The Catch of the Evening” by Kristin Martin


The Catch of the Evening

When the gully breeze bustled through the gums

skimming the heat from the day

we bowled out of the house

and set up stumps under the blue gum.

As always, the catches were what mattered.

Mum’s was the first.

She glanced up from yanking a thistle out of the hardened pitch

and plucked the ball from the air.

Jack caught me out on the full

ball clasped tight against his chest

his whoops and air-punches claiming more skill than he displayed.

Dad didn’t even get a look in

with his collection of one-hand-one-bounces

but I caught him mid-air with a spectacular leap from atop the slide.

Then, as the mosquitos herded us indoors,

I turned to grab the stumps and saw the uncontested winner.

Our blue gum. It had caught the moon

and was holding it triumphantly

in the crook of a branch.

by Kristin Martin

Prompt #15 “Let’s Pretend”


This week prompt is to write from a child’s perspective. Write a poem about yourself pretending you are a child in which nothing is true.

Please send prompt poems and any other poems to:



I am on LSL from 28/6 to 30/7. My husband and I are travelling with our caravan to the tip of Cape York and as a result we will be out of range at times especially in “The Cape”. To keep things running well I would like to schedule a month ahead for this time. I was thinking that we could have a spotlight month in July in which the regulars send in 3-4 poems and a paragraph of what you are doing re poetry in 2018. I would need 12 of you to contribute to this idea. If you would like to be part of this please send me the poems and paragraph in Word by Friday 22/6.



And todays quote:


“Worm-Farm Blues” by Kate O’Neil




It’s a no-good life livin’ in this worm-farm—

It’s no life a worm would choose.

We’re writhin’ around, tangled and mangled

Topsied and turvied and confused. 

There’s too darn many in this worm-farm

We’ve all got the worm-farm blues.

We loop to and fro 

with nowhere to go

singin’ the worm-farm blues:



We’ve a dream in our head

Of a vegetable bed.

We know it’s not far away.

With room to roam

And plenty of loam.

But we’ll never see that day.

Oh Blues! It’s blues all the way! 

There’s nowhere to go in this chock-a-block worm-farm—

No place where we can snooze.

We twist and we twine, huddled and muddled,

contorted and thwarted and abused.

And all of us here in this worm-farm

are sufferin’ the worm-farm blues.

We’re just ravellin’

Can’t do travellin’

We just sing the worm-farm blues.


Is there anybody there listenin’ to this worm-farm?

Anyone to hear our views?

We tumble in a jumble, pulsing and convulsing.

We’re rumpled and crumpled and bruised.

We‘re goin’ on strike in this worm-farm:

There’ll be no more worm-farm poos!

We hate this scramblin’

We wanna be ramblin’

away from the worm-farm blues.

©  Kate O’Neil

“Wormy Work” by Celia Berrell

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Wormy Work

Earthworms don’t have bony bits

and so they’re called invertebrates.

There’s billions living in the soil

that burrow, stretch, contract and coil.


Creating holes within soil’s layer

can mix it up and add some air

which helps break-down organic waste

and drain the rain in record haste.


Organic matter, we conclude

provides the worms with all their food.

Consuming soil is what they do.

Excreting lots of earthworm poo.


These squiggly clumps of mud have passed

through worm’s insides.  They’re called a cast.

Those casts make soil a better place

so plants grow at a faster pace.


Without the worms, the soil would not

stay very clean and start to rot.

The earthworms all have key careers

as eco-system engineers.

Celia Berrell

“Yesterday” by Di Bates



I was a golden dragon

The kiss of grasses brushed my ankles

And then I rose into the sky 

Where I cavorted at first

Then drifted 

brushing the clouds,

a wondrous lilting shape that those below 

beheld with awe.


Golden and crimson I lapped the world

like a god commanding


and everyone

all things revolved around me

I owned the day

Shattered it with my beauty

And my gigantic roar.



yesterday was a dream

and now I am but a mere child

my mother standing over me

with her many demands

I must obey.

Dianne Bates