“The Farmyard” by Louise McCarthy

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Harriet Heaven-Sent of Eastern Australia,

Packed her bags with her paraphernalia.

She waved farewell as she boarded the bus,

While friends and relatives made quite a fuss.

 

She had made them proud. It was such a surprise,

The day that Harriet won the grand prize.

Harriet Heaven-Sent, a writer of stanza,

An artist, a wordsmith had won the bonanza!

 

Harriet Heaven-Sent had written a ode.

She’d won a year’s residency at “The Farmyard.”

The retreat that inspires the most beautiful writing,

A remote island paradise – so rare; so exciting…

 

And after a year of running the farm,

Where each dawn the rooster crowed with alarm,

And the sheep followed close and the goats liked to munch,

On Harriet’s washing, for dinner and lunch.

 

Where the donkey would bray when Harriet wrote,

He-haw! Hee-haw! Not a melodic note.

And as for the harmony, the horses and cows –

Succeeded in raising Harriet’s brows.

 

Well the list did go on, but there was no escape,

As a burly great bull was parked at the gate!

So Harriet Heaven-Sent stayed for the year.

After which time she changed her career.

 

Yes, Harriet Heaven-Sent – was returned to her home,

She was air-lifted out – the writer of poems.

And to the dismay of all whom she knew,

Became a farmer! – Yes this is true.

 

So each year a chopper drops in a bard

A writer of stanza, to work“The Farmyard.”

And no one knows why but each year’s the same,

The bard returns home with a whole different aim.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

” One, Two, Three Bins” by Toni Newell

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Our Council gives us three bins,

Each has a special calling,

The red top is for general waste,

And the yellow for recycling.

And then we have the green bin,

That recycles plants and trees,

Egg shells and food scraps,

Organic waste and leaves.

The green bin is my favourite,

Because it’s nature’s gold,

Mulched and used as compost,

Its benefits unfold.

In the fortnight that it’s waiting,

For collection to take place,

In warmer months the process starts,

At a faster pace.

Lift the lid and feel and smell,

The heat as it meets the air,

And you will know that your green waste,

Won’t be going to waste elsewhere.

“SPIDER” by Pat Simmons

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She spins her intricate web

Perfectly positioned between bending branches.

Invisible to unsuspecting insects, she waits.

Dinner is served.

Effort rewarded, hunger satisfied, she rests.

Rain lashes branches. She begins again.

“The whole universe” by Andrew Carter

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“Spring Lamb” by James Aitchison

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Boing-boing,

I am, I am,

Boing-boing,

Spring lamb!

 

Boing-boing,

I’m lamb not ram,

Boing-boing,

Spring Lamb!

 

Boing-boing,

I’m lamb not ham,

Boing-boing,

Spring lamb!

 

Boing-boing,

At any price,

Boing-boing,

Lamb’s nice!

“Flying Tale” by Julie Cahill 

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Flying Tale

The most favorite pet we ever had 

was little ‘Peanut,’ named by Dad

The tiny fit upon my hand

soon sprung out 

like a rubber band

When laying, he was Peanut Paste

fortunately without the taste

When chasing ‘Fly,’

our other dog 

t’was left behind at every log

We watched Fly in the longest grass

grass that bent

while Peanut chased his . . . tail 😁

“Lilli pilli, loquat, cumquat tree” by Penny Szentkuti

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This one is a skipping rhyme or chant to celebrate the fruits and flowers of a Sydney spring.

Lilli pilli, loquat, cumquat tree
What shall we have for afternoon tea?
Wattle in the garden, jasmine on the breeze
Lilli pilli, loquat, cumquat please!

 

“Spring Haiku” by Katherine Gallagher

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blazing wattle –

the splendour

of yellow

 

a ladybird

on the mock-orange

finds the sun

 

 

in the distance

the stillness

of trees leafing

 

 

“Which Came First?” by Toni Newell

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It started out as a seed,

And slowly put down roots.

Then struggled to reach the top,

By sending up a shoot.

It pushed its head above the ground,

And then it grew more leaves,

Produced a lot of flowers,

Which attracted many bees.

It grew to become a plant,

Bearing fruit which housed the seeds,

And thus, the cycle continues,

But what precedes?

Did the seed come before the plant?

Or the plant before the seed?

It’s a question that’s been asked before,

And will be asked again, indeed.