Perspicacious parrots prance along the parapet, peering at the people, perambulating past.
Chattering and chortling, chomping and chewing, chirping and chanting, charming and choice
What a wealth of whistlers! What a world of warblers! Whimsical and wondrous!
Fly forever free!
Image from Pixabay
A worm
wriggles out
onto the footpath
you wave it away
with your wide-brimmed hat
“wrong way”
your say,”
wrong way”
but as you
bend down
it is as still
as a strand of spaghetti
Image from Pexels
It doesn’t have to be someone’s birthday in order to share a poem about them. How about celebrating a FAMILY MEMBER (real or fictitious) or a FAMOUS AUSTRALIAN CHARACTER/PERSON in verse this month?
Send your poetic inspirations to Linda Davidson:
Date prompts include:
Picture Prompt:
Artwork: NIGHTSOUNDS by Amber W Johnson
This is the way I like to see
the ocean and the sky.
No pollution, no rubbish dumped,
no plastic floating by.
Oceans and skies, clean and clear,
the way they ought to be;
if you agree they should be saved,
it’s up to you and me.
Sea and sky, South Island, New Zealand. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Teacher’s note: What could you do to keep oceans and rivers clean?
Our lovely Aussie icon
The cuddly Koala Bear
Is sometimes hard to spot
High up in the air
Their habitat is shrinking
As we timber fell their trees
And bushfires ravage homeland
Igniting tinder dry gum leaves
Let’s take care of our sleepy friend
So we can entertain the tourists
With drop bear tales, Caramellos
And natural sightings in the forests
Poem inspired by June picture prompt from artwork by Melissa Varoy
Celia at Science Rhymes is eager to receive your rhyming poems (up to 4 verses) – or Haiku – before the end of July. Adults and children (via an adult email address) are invited to submit their creations to feedback@sciencerhymes.com.au. The resulting FLORA-VERSE online anthology will be celebrating #scienceweek2026.
Our poetry collection is already growing. We’ve received poems about Seed DNA; invasive weeds; endangered wattle; and amazing grass trees. Anything plant-related that includes a touch of science, be it biology, chemistry or other STEM-related perspective, is very welcome.
We are particularly looking forward to publishing poems that feature vegetation found in Australia. From seeds to forests; from flowers to bees, this collection will include your thoughts and discoveries about plants and how they shape environments for a myriad of living things.
The use of AI to help create poems is permitted, but conditions apply. These include acknowledging the AI (such as ChatGPT) with the (human) author’s name; checking AI information for science errors before submitting; and answering 4 simple questions about your experience with using AI for this poem. 1) Were you delighted or disappointed with what AI came up with – give a score out of ten. 2) Did you edit the response? 3) Was your prompt simple or specific? 4) Would you do this again next year?
We still totally appreciate your “human-made” poems for their artistic and literacy values! We trust authors using AI will try to improve the creations they receive through editing and carefully checking facts.
Science Week runs from 15th to 23rd August.
Our deadline for receiving poems is currently Friday 31st July.
Find out more at:
https://www.scienceweek.net.au/event/seeds-to-scenery-poetry/ where you can download the SEEDS TO SCENERY pdf for more details and poem examples. Plus, check out National Science Week Events & Competitions for more activities.
Sturdy Mulga Trees by Celia Berrell
Stretching up towards the skies
or weeping boughs drawn by their sides,
iconic mulga, drab and droll,
still represent Australia’s soul.
In sunburnt soils on arid lands,
with long strong roots, the mulga stands.
High heat; cold nights are mulga’s fate.
In drought these trees can hibernate.
Their rugged bark with groovy tracks
can channel drips down trunks of black.
Instead of leaves, they’ve phyllodes.
Flattened stems that clatter breeze.
Mulga blossoms, tassled gold,
are quick to let sweet-scents unfold.
Flowering not for Spring, but rain.
Should water kiss their harsh terrain.
First published in POINTS OF INTERSECTION SCIENCE AND POETRY (page 35), held in the Scottish Poetry Library.
Mint green is the smell of the gum trees after rain,
of Vicks rubbed onto chests by warm hands.
Moss green is the fuzz beneath my fingertips,
soft wooly jumpers and patterned socks.
Emerald green are the shiny new wellies
with polka-dots that keep feet dry.
Army green is the smears of grass and mud
on the knees of trackpants and footy boots.
Lime green is a chorus of frogs,
a cackle of twenty-eights,
a quaver of silvereyes.
Olive green is my sickly complexion,
the contents of
a crumple of tissues and
a steaming hot bowl of
comforting
pea and ham soup.
Image from Pexels
She seemed extremely cheerful
when she greeted us today
and welcomed us so warmly
as we set out on our way.
The tracks were bathed in sunlight
and the sky was powder blue.
The kookaburras chortled
till they had us chuckling too.
The undergrowth was buzzing
and the leaves of all the trees
were waving to each other
as they frolicked in the breeze.
But now she’s in a temper
and she’s grumbling from up high.
I can’t see blue above me,
just an angry looking sky.
The sun’s no longer smiling
and the clouds are turning black.
The rumbling’s sounding louder,
so, it’s time we headed back.
That gentle breeze has strengthened
to become a howling gale.
It’s started raining torrents
and we’re drenched from head to tail.
This monster she’s unleashing
is undoubtedly deranged.
I can’t believe how swiftly
Mother Nature’s mood has changed.
Image from Pexels
Australian Children’s Poetry 