Tammy by Bridh Hancock

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Tammy

 

As long as I live will I ever remember

Those bright eyes shining under the table,

Of a black and tan kelpie, who was silently saying:

“Will you be my friend? Can I be yours, too?

 

“Can we be friends?—yes! the best of. And if you

Love me, fun me, feed, and de-flea me,

I’ll guard and care for you, and ever be there,

For you’ll be my friend—yes!—and I’ll be yours, too.”

 

She was my ‘best of…’, and I loved her and kept her

Til, old, deaf and blind, she lay down and died.

Then gone were the walkies, my petting this pal,

But memories, good memories, will ever remain.

 

Memories, dear memories, so near and so dear,

Of a woofity pal who just wanted a friend.

Thanks, Mum, for Tammy, with her bright eyes so shining,

Who sat ’neath the table waiting for me.

Bridh Hancock

Old John and the Rain by Elizabeth Cummings

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Old John and the Rain

I woke last night

And heard the rain

And as I lay there

Listening to the opera

That was the rain

And that the silence filled

A sense of gratitude

In my heart did grow

 

My bones still ached

And my hands so crooked

Stayed clawed and bent

Their toils outside

Were reaping a dividend

Plenty-fold and tonight

As I listen to that welcomed trespasser

I see my reward that awaits come dawn.

 

Sleep came again she did

Upon my weary limbs

My eyes, my mind, my heart

All heavy, so full and overflowing

Of all that life has been

And so dreams did come

And take me back to these blessed moments past

And I was young again

Till I woke at dawn to the sound of rain.

Elizabeth Cummings

Over in the Jungle (Skipping Rhyme) by Rebecca Newman

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OVER IN THE JUNGLE — A SKIPPING  RHYME

Over in the jungle
it’s the monkeys’ time for lunch.
They like to eat bananas,
they eat them by the bunch.

Father likes the yellow ones,
Mother likes the brown,
and Baby likes the green ones
munching upside down!

Rebecca Newman

Rebecca shared this lively skipping rhyme on her website early this year. She wrote it in celebration of the Chinese Year of the Monkey. Here’s the link: https://rebeccanewman.net.au/2016/02/08/a-monkey-skipping-rhyme/
Rebecca says: I really loved skipping rhymes as a child, and I loved the skipping part too, especially in a big crowd with two people turning the rope.

Winter: A Child’s Guide by Monty Edwards

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Winter: A Child’s Guide

When the wind howls through the trees;

When you fear your feet will freeze;

When dark clouds obscure the sun;

Know that winter has begun.

 

Now’ s the time the days seem short;

Now a cold can soon be caught;

Now more frequent rain will fall;

It’s just winter  – that is all.

 

Thunderstorms may come and go;

On high mountains there’ll be snow;

Frost may form upon the grass:

This is winter. It will pass.

 

Winter’s time for active play.

Grab your gear without delay!

Put your boots on! Join your team!

Soon much warmer it will seem!

 

If you’d rather play inside,

Indoor games wait to be tried.

With your family or a friend,

Boredom soon will quickly end.

 

Start a hobby and collect.

Fix a toy that someone wrecked.

Solve a puzzle. Draw or paint.

Clean your room. Your Mum will faint!

 

Drink hot chocolate by the fire.

Read an author you admire.

Whether you’re a girl or boy,

Don’t miss out on winter joy!

Monty Edwards

Monty Said: My aim in the poem was to help children think positively about winter, since despite its drawbacks and discomforts, these are temporary and the season still offers many opportunities for real enjoyment.

Family by Sioban Timmer

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There is a special place in our hearts and souls

That can only be filled by someone

who instinctively understands us,

Loves us unconditionally,

Is never demanding of our love and attention

But is always grateful for it.

That’s why pets are family.

Sioban Timmer

Sioban says: This piece was written for a friend after their dog died. Pets especially dogs are so the ultimate carers, they bring so much to our lives and expect so little in return. Cats on the other hand…..

Limerick by Sioban Timmer

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There once was a postie called Progge

Who had a most wonderful dog

It could carry more letters

Than fifteen red setters

And he never got lost in the fog!

Sioban Timmer

Sioban says: I wrote this in primary school after we learnt about limericks – and for some reason I have always remembered it!

 

Leaf Lace by Teena Raffa-Mulligan

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Leaf lace

 

Lace maker

Toils secretly

Tucked out of sight;

Creates ornate

Patterns

Until they’re just right.

Delicate, intricate

Handiwork done

Designer departs

To start

The next one.

Serrates, decorates

All my plants in this way.

I confess

I’m impressed

At this leaf lace display.

Teena Raffa-Mulligan
  • First published in Orbit by The School Magazine (May 2016)

Help! by Jenny Erlanger

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Help!

She twisted into awesome shapes,

her limbs like sticks of foam.

I wish someone had said you’re not

to try this out at home.

I should have stuck to juggling balls

or spinning plates instead.

It’s not much fun when both your legs

are stuck behind your head!

Jenny Erlanger

 

First published as “Circus Act” in The School Magazine (May 2015)

 

The Happy Cricket by Monty Edwards

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The Happy Cricket

 

There was once a little cricket,

Who was happy as could be.

He was chirpy before breakfast.

He  was chirpy after tea.

He was chirpy when the sun rose

He was chirpy when it set.

When it comes to being chirpy,

No more chirpy could you get!

 

At one time when he was chirping

As the sun came up at dawn,

He was hopping through the flowers;

He was jumping on the lawn;

But, quite suddenly, a sprinkler

Shot him with a shower of spray

And he didn’t feel like chirping

Till the sprinkler went away.

 

Now this jolly little cricket

Really  loved to have a dance,

He would look around for partners

When he ever had the chance.

They would waltz around the kitchen;

They would jig right down the hall.

Where they really kicked their heels up

Was the weekly cricket ball!

 

Monty Edwards

Monty says: Lacking inspiration, I tried imagination and hit on a cricket ball!

I Am a Dancer! by Meredith Costain

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Ballerina poem