“Improving the Alphabet” by Monty Edwards

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Improving the Alphabet

Take pity on poor letter C:

It always follows A and B.

When Aussies write their alphabets,

Then third’s the place it always gets.

It hardly seems that this is fair

That C is always sitting there,

Behind the letters A and B,

But never leads, don’t you agree?

Forgive my words if I am blunt,

But I think C should be in front.

I’ve had enough of A-B-C:

Let’s have a change to C-A-B

Now C-A-B’s a proper word,

But A-B-C is quite absurd.

Then after CAB change DEF to FED

No nonsense now: real words instead!

Monty Edwards

”Encounter” by Virginia Lowe

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Encounter

They met at the back door

He was going out

She was coming in

Bemused, enchanted

They stood face to face

Eye to eye

She was charmed by

His long fluttering eyelashes

Then she took a peck

We rushed to sweep him up

Before she reached his eye

Only eight months old

Though already walking

Without boots

Who was he to stand

Between a chook and her beloved

Cat food? 

12 May 2018

Virginia Lowe

“Grandpa’s farm” by Jenny Erlanger

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Grandpa’s farm

My Grandpa rang this morning.

He’s just bought a farm, he said

and so I’ve started dreaming

of the fun that lies ahead.

I see myself with bottles

helping feed the baby lambs,

I’m saddling up the ponies,

catching yabbies in the dams.

I glimpse a pretty orchard

filled with trees for me to climb –

the apples smell delicious

so it must be picking time.

I hear a rooster crowing

as it struts amongst the chooks

near a cosy little cottage

like the ones in picture books…

But now the vision’s fading

thanks to what I’ve just been told.

My dreams of country living

I may have to put on hold.

I won’t be catching yabbies,

won’t be riding through the scrub.

My Grandpa’s little farm is…

just some worms inside a tub!

Jenny Erlanger 

“Autumn Elegy” by Monty Edwards

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Autumn Elegy

Autumn leaves come tumbling down:

Orange, yellow, shades of brown;

Sun-dried, shaken, lost their grip:

Sailing breeze-borne like a ship;

Tossing, tacking, left and right:

Unpredictable their flight;

Watch them wander down the street, 

Where in huddled heaps they meet;

Left behind their mother tree:

Weeping still as each floats free.

Monty Edwards

“Earthworms” by Elizabeth Cummings with Teacher Notes

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EARTHWORMS

 

 

Earthworm, you burrower extraordinaire

How can you stand to live down there

With no arms of legs in the soil so dark?

With your one cylindrical digestive tract

You move with the muscles that you contact

To make your body first short then long

And those bristles help propel you along

Through leaf litter, topsoil or deeper down

You help to mix up the stuff in the ground

This makes you the base of many a food chain

Yet your many skills are the environment’s gain

Your talent with organic matter is biological

And mixing tall the nutrients is a flair so chemical

Then there’s your physical ability of aerating

So the soil ecosystem’s restoration you’re helping

Thus let’s take some time to show a bit of gratitude

For how you improve the quality of our food!

 

 

Worms both disgust and fascinate me! I remember my brother holding a worm in his hands as a toddler and exclaiming; ‘One worm two worms!’ as he pulled it part😱. After that I had nightmares about worms for years until one of my pupils brought a worm farm into the class and taught us all about he important work of the humble earthworm… a teacher can always learn from their students!

Elizabeth Cummings 

 

Teacher Notes by Jeanie Axton:

Read this poem to the class a few times and then ask a student to write key words on the whiteboard. As a class research and make a timeline of life in the worm farm. Look at how worms are a sign of a healthy garden and how worm tea helps condition soil and grow healthy plants.

If your really brave have a “Bring your gumboots day” and go out and collect worms to bring back to the classroom. Watch how they move and write a worm poem.

Remember to take the worms back to where you got them after the lesson. They belong in the environment.

 

“The Worm Farm Family” by Jeanie Axton

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Willy the wriggler

eats apple cores

In the worm farm

while he does his chores

 

Walter the wrestler

likes bean sprouts

In the worm warm

while he works out

 

Wayne the wanderer

eats bread then naps

In the worm farm

as he grows quite fat

 

Wendy the whiner

squirms in the grime

In the worm farm

she complains all the time

 

Wanda the wise worm

reads and reflects

In the worm farm

she has a calming effect

 

Wilma the wacky worm

would rather party than eat

In the worm farm

dancing to the beat

 

Together they live

Eat, poop and wee

In the worm farm

to supply our worm tea

Jeanie Axton

 

Heres a guide on what to and what not to feed our worm friends.

“I’d like to walk backwards”by Marc T Low

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I’d like to walk backwards

 

I’d like to walk backwards wherever I go,

And meet people moping ato and afro,

I’d bump into pillars and shut out the light,

Or be a long shadow walking through the night.

 

I’d ask someone how I should get to a place,

And then walk backwards to that point at a pace,

I’d fall in the river and ask to be saved

And allowed to walk once again on the paths paved.

 

I’d walk into lifts backwards, pulling a trolley,

Or splash in the puddles left there by my brolly,

And when people ask me, “How do you get by?”

I’ll say that in th’ back of my head there’s an eye.

Marc T Low

Scrambled Eggs by Louise McCarthy

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Scrambled Eggs!

Young Daniel put his dad’s boots on,

Rather than his own.

His own boots – they were fine,

But his dad’s boots stood alone.

They were spacious – very roomy,

The same length as his legs.

And what was more he found

That there was room to put the eggs!

MEGHAN MARKLE’S MOUSE by James Aitchison

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MEGHAN MARKLE’S MOUSE

My home is my castle — Windsor Castle —

And I live in St George’s Chapel;

Being a mouse I go foraging

for some crumbs and pieces of apple.

My chapel is mostly a peaceful place,

But no!  Not on the nineteenth of May:

won’t have a moment to bless myself

when the world comes to visit that day.

They’re making history on May nineteen,

and there will be no time to tarry —

but I’ll have a front row seat to see

Meghan Markle marry Prince Harry!

I’ll hide underneath Her Majesty’s chair —

that should give me an excellent view —

and I’ll wave my tail and squeak hooray

when Meghan and Harry say I do!

Two poems by Scarlett Mika

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