“The Thing-a-me-bunyaroo” by Stephanie Boase

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The Thing-a-me-bunyaroo

The Thing-a-me-bunyaroo

Is a very strange creature, it’s true!

He’s as tall as a man

And stout as a ram

With a long, shaggy coat of blue.

The Thing-a-me-bunyaroo

Loves to find nuts to chew.

His teeth are as strong

As the river is long

But he also loves apple stew.

The Thing-a-me-bunyaroo

Has been seen by very few.

He hides in the billabong by day

And then comes happily out to play

At night, amongst the dew.

The Thing-a-me-bunyaroo;

Where to find him? I haven’t a clue!

I’d like to meet him just for fun,

Play ‘Hide and Seek’ or ‘Tag and Run’

With the Thing-a-me-bunyaroo…  Wouldn’t you?

“A SEASONAL TELESTITCH” by James Aitchison with Teacher Notes

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The end of cold days:

Farewell! Adieu!

The sun rises warm

But expect a quick storm,

Then catch a wave —

It’s my kind of weather!


The sunsets glow red

Across Australia,

We’re all on holiday —

The best of all times!


                                          James Aitchison



TEACHERS’ NOTES by James Aitchison

A telestitch is the opposite of an acrostic.  Discover the poem’s hidden message by reading the last letter (rather than the first) of each line.

Give it a try

And most of all — have fun!

“Let the show go on”  by Celia Berrell


Let the show go on


For you and me

it’s free to see.

The greatest show around.

The cast’s

eleven million of

the life forms that abound.


From big-screen species


like humans; dolphins; whales.

To tiniest of

microbes making

sure our show won’t fail.


The plants provide

the perfect props

and stunning back-drop scenes.

All intertwined

with DNA

and fascinating genes.


The show is so


Full of life’s variety.

Our planet Earth’s

X-factor is …



First published in CSIRO’s Scientrifficmagazine, No 65 January 2010

The Reluctant Racehorse” by Monty Edwards


The Reluctant Racehorse

Old Roscoe was a racehorse who no longer wished to run.

He’d had enough of coming last. That didn’t seem like fun.

Each day his trainer woke him with an early morning call, 

But Roscoe still felt sleepy and he wasn’t pleased at all.

He hated the old trailer that would take him to the track,

Nor did he like the jockey who’d be sitting on his back.

His owner, who would watch him train, just wanted extra pace,

But all that Roscoe longed for was to be some other place!


Once, when the trailer halted and glum Roscoe looked about.

He thought he recognised the spot and wanted to be out.

For what he saw was lush green grass and trees providing shade

While underneath those lofty gums a group of children played.

He looked in vain for jockeys, and the grown-ups there were few,

But then he spied the trainer , and the owner with him too.

The trailer door was opened, then the trainer led him out

And that was when the children all at once began to shout.


“It’s him,” they cried. “It’s Roscoe! Maybe Dad will let us ride.”

“Remember, Dad, you promised!”  “Yes, I did,” their Dad replied.

“Old Roscoe’s finished racing. It just seems he’s had enough

Of chasing younger horses  – no more winning. It’s been tough!

The fact is, he was born here, and he loved it from the start,

But when we took him off to race, it seems that broke his heart.

He’s home now. No more racing. He’ll be happy here at last.

Old Roscoe’s found there’s lots you miss when always running fast.”


– Monty Edwards

“Carnival Roundabout” by Julie Cahill 

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Carnival Roundabout

Marmaduke our winning ram

won the raffle and home he came

T’weren’t US who won HIM at the show

the judges messed that up, you know.

saying ‘here’s your special prize

for guessing both his weight and size’

The Marm who wasn’t any ram

he chased the cows and drained Dad’s dam

he grew and spread with every day

eating cats and dogs and hay

And when the next show came around

Marm went on the roundabout

Another girl then took him home

My sister Jill, and home he came

Julie Cahill