How long have you stood there,
by whose hand were you made?
Your slabs were rough hewn,
but carefully laid
into place, long ago,
still standing but weathered,
where a drover’s horse
was maybe once tethered.
Tell me, did bushrangers
ever ride by you?
Did farmers’ children
once sit astride you?
What stories you’d whisper
of history and such,
of old pioneers
whose memories we touch.
Photo courtesy of Gina Pestana
I climb on a chair
To brush my hair
Cause the mirror is too high up.
My teeth feel grimy.
I’ll make them shiny
With toothpaste I keep in a cup.
Next is my face.
What a disgrace!
Warm water will do the trick.
“There’s cheese on my chin,”
I say with a grin.
Then wipe it off real quick.
I’m excited today.
I’m ready to play.
And now I look pretty cool.
I jump on the floor,
And head to the door.
“Muumm, I’m ready for school!”
Image from Vecteezy
Where did you come from?
How far did you float?
Too twisted and torn
to come from a boat.
What tide washed you here
and flung you ashore?
If you could but speak,
I’d love to know more.
Looking out to the Tasman Sea from New Zealand. Photo by Ginette Pestana
My nose and eyes were trickling
And my throat was really tickling.
I was coming down with something, I could tell.
And I had this premonition
my particular condition
would be something that was very hard to spell.
I was sure I had an “itis”,
and most probably bronchitis
but the doctor’s looked me over, and I’m told
I don’t have pharyngitis
and I don’t have laryngitis.
What I’ve got is just a simple, common cold.
The new morning
quietly greets the day,
the soft dawning
rippling the bay,
teasing the cloud,
lighting the sky,
boats in a crowd,
and on the shore,
I wonder what the
day will be,
what adventures are
in store for me.
Near Picton, New Zealand. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Australia has been called the lucky country,
Most people have clothes and rarely go hungry.
We are free to vote and have our say,
But is it best to get our own way?
Our multicultural nation is full of colourful people.
We should respect one another and treat them as equal.
With a variety of religion, upbringing and race,
Let’s love one another and show plenty of grace.
Our differences make for vibrant discussion.
There’s so much we can learn from hearing each other.
Try praying for peace as you make some new friends,
And hope for a future where love never ends.
Let’s all come together in twenty, twenty-five,
To listen and learn, then together we’ll thrive.
Image from Vecteezy
There’s a problem, he says, with the doodad.
He’s been trying for hours to install it.
The thingummyjig,
he says is too big
to plug into the whatchamacallit.
Yes, my grandpa has bought a computer
and I know that he’ll find it terrific
but he’s rung me tonight
to say something’s not right.
I just wish he could be more specific.
Find yourself a place where there’s
no artificial light,
after sunset’s peachy glows
have dwindled into night.
Feast your eyes on darkness
so, your pupils will enlarge,
taking-in night’s wonderment.
A myriad of stars!
Awesome, spacious,
trancing, spinning,
mesmerising lights are bringing
messages of time’s beginning.
Histories of cosmic meaning.
It makes us question why we are,
compared to just one single star.
The more we look,
the more we see
the endlessness.
Infinity.
Image from Pixaby by Nini Kvaratskhelia
I will leave behind the old shore,
that spent and weary year,
and cross over to the new,
bright and blue and clear.
I can see the peaks I’ll climb,
I’ll achieve my dreams — you’ll see!
I’ll make the world a better place,
the best year it can be.
A New Zealand lake and mountains. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Now we’ve seen the new year in
and seen the old one out,
How were all our past days spent
and what they were about?
Good days and bad days
Quiet days and mad days
Low days and glad days
Slow days and sad days
All those days that took away
twelve months of our time –
They were the days –
These are the days
of auld lang syne
Australian Children’s Poetry 
