Idyllicacryliclycralyric by Kate O’Neil

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Idyllicacryliclycralyric

 

I’m a biker. I’m a hiker

and I love acrylic lycra.

 

I’m specific that acrylic

is the lycra that I like

for especially when biking

it is greatly to my liking

to be free to frisk and frolic

when I reach somewhere idyllic

and I get down from my bike.

 

And lycra that’s acrylic,

when the heat is diabolic,

just wicks away the wet

so there’s never trickling sweat

to upset the mood euphoric

when I reach a place bucolic

on a long laborious hike.

… or a day-trip on my bike.

 

That’s why acrylic lycra’s what I like.

Kate O’Neil 

Found a Kite by Marc Low

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Found a Kite

If you should ever find a kite

And fly it in the air,

You’ll find it flying beautifully,

Flitting, soaring there;

The people staring will be awed

And think that it’s your kite;

Poets and lovers will all laugh

And smile at your kite’s sight.

And when it rains the kite will fall

And flounder to the ground,

And with a sigh you’ll leave at last

With that kite that you found.

Marc Low

The Teardrop by Allan Cropper

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THE TEARDROP

 

I was sad.

I shed a single tear.

It lay before me but for a moment.

A warming sun and a drying wind beckoned it skyward

to join a million other teardrops in a cloud.

A million teardrops fell to earth,

and like a million teardrop broom

they swept away the fear and gloom,

and I was happy.

Allan Cropper 

Drum Dreams by Sharon Hammad

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Drum Dreams

Don’t tell me I should tinkle on the piano’s ivory keys

And I don’t want to learn to make the tartan bagpipes wheeze.

I do not crave to pluck the harp with fingertips and thumbs,

But how I hope and dream that one day I can play the drums!

If only I could find the words to sway my mum and dad

From their idea that getting drums is bound to turn out bad.

They tell me they would cost too much. We wouldn’t have the space

Unless we relocated to a chockablock-less place.

My parents think I’d wake them up when they would rather snooze.

They’re confident the neighbours would completely blow their fuse.

No matter what I say to them, they will not change their tune:

It looks like I’m not getting drums at any moment soon.

The neighbours wouldn’t have to know; they wouldn’t hear a peep

And if we looked up Gumtree I bet we could get some cheap.

Concerning space, of course my room might end up in a squeeze

But I can sleep out in the hall. Oh, let me have them please.

Perhaps I need to close my eyes and strongly concentrate

So one day mum and dad decide to re-evaluate.

I try and try this strategy although it doesn’t work

For when I open up my eyes, my parents only smirk.

They ask me if I’m feeling sick ─ my face is rather pink─

And as I slowly turn away, I think I see them wink.

The night before my birthday I release a mournful sigh.

It might be better if I kiss the drums idea goodbye.

My birthday dawns and light seeps through the curtains in my room

While over in the corner something strange lurks in the gloom.

And as I stare, and stare some more, the ghostly shape becomes…

My own electric-foldaway-with-headphones set of drums!

Sharon Hammad

The Seagull Squawks/Speaks by Jane Williams

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The seagull squawks speaks

 

Hey you!

You’re looking at me like

you’ve got something to say –

Well OK then

I’m up for a chat,

a chitter, a chatter,

a yabber, a yak,

a tittle-tattle

jibber-jabber,

a yammering yap.

I’m open to suggestion

on topics for discussion

Let’s communicate, confabulate,

wag the chin and chew the fat.

Let’s prattle and babble,

let’s talk, talk, talk!

But first you’ve got to learn

how to screech, how to squawk –

so stretch out your neck,

now open your beak …

wait … what’s that?

You don’t have a beak?

Beg pardon, my mistake

for presuming you could speak!

Jane Williams

The Darling of the Darling Downs by Allan Cropper

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The Darling of the Darling Downs

Lady Flo, the wife of Joh

The darling of the Darling Downs

Her recipe for pumpkin scones

Was shared across Australian towns

The farmers in the pumpkin patch

And those who baked and kneaded dough

Were all prepared to cook a batch

And give the pumpkin scones a go

Australia loved the pumpkin scone

and Flo became a household name.

It wasn’t due to husband Joh,

That Lady Flo had found her fame.

In meeting halls and country fairs

The pumpkin scones still do the rounds

So take a bow, dear Lady Flo

The darling of the Darling Downs.

Allan Cropper

Kitchen Help by Jenny Erlanger

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Kitchen help

 

There’s beetroot on the ceiling,

down the walls and on the floor.

The dressing’s leaving patterns

that I’ve never seen before.

The nuts and pomegranate

fly like bullets through the air.

I’m stepping over mushrooms

and there’s lettuce in my hair.

My mother’s looking angry,

I’m in trouble, I can tell.

She said to toss the salad

and I’ve tossed it pretty well.

 

 

Jenny Erlanger 

Class Rules by Kate O’Neil

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Class Rules

 

In my Australian school

in the days of Empire,

we dipped our nibbed pens

in ink that was royal blue,

and, by decree,

in ink of

no other colour.

Not the blue of the sea

which girt us

nor of the arching sky

in our land of the free.

Australians were loyal

and True Blue

was royal.

 

Britannia ruled the waves

and Britannia ruled

the ink.

 

Margins however,

were to be ruled

(exactly one inch,

giving no quarter)

in erasable pencil.

Kate O’Neil

Zoe’s Zoo by Pat Simmons

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Zoe’s Zoo

 

Small jars, tall jars, boxes too,

Zoe needs them for her zoo.

 

In the garden, in the sun

is where she finds Exhibit One.

A caterpillar munching leaves,

Zoe stoops, rolls up her sleeves

and carefully with finger tips

(just in case this critter nips)

places it inside a jar.

Pops on the lid.

He won’t get far.

 

Crouching in a damp dark spot,

armed with just a yogurt pot

she spots a tell-tale silver trail.

Exhibit Two, a friendly snail.

 

With trusty trowel she fills a jar

then doesn’t have to dig too far

before she spots a sudden squirm.

Exhibit Three, a wriggling worm.

 

Exhibit Four sits in a box,

wearing gloves and scarf and socks.

His cage says, ‘Dangerous Beware.

Please Don’t Feed This Teddy Bear.’

 

A tiny cubby made from sticks

houses numbers Five and Six.

A beetle and a millipede

curled up like a shiny bead.

 

Exhibit Seven’s tied to a tree.

He’s rather dangerous you see.

A dinosaur might stomp around

and squish those caged upon the ground.

 

She needs to find Exhibit Eight

who’s sitting calmly on the gate.

Zoe has to pull and tug

to capture this majestic slug.

 

Now who will be the final two

to join the gang at Zoe’s Zoo?

She has to build a great big pen

to house Exhibits Nine and Ten.

 

Her work is done.

She gives a shout.

‘Mum and Daddy, please come out.’

 

‘Gotcha!’

Pat Simmons 

The Caretakers by Anne Bell

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THE CARETAKERS

I went to the house,looking for a man to build a fence

knowing nothing of him,except that people said

he built good fences.

His garden warmed July’s cold hills,

but there was nobody there,

save a peacock,a scarecrow and a fine, grey mare.

I found nobody to build my fence,

but I think I’d like a man

who left his home to the care

of a peacock, a scarecrow and a fine, grey mare.

Anne Bell

 

First published in The School Magazine.