Author Archives: australianchildrenspoetry

The Tjuntjun Cat by Stewart Ennis

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The Tjuntjun cat is a lonely cat,
and possibly,
the only cat
in Tjuntjuntjara.

For Tjuntjun is a dog town.
Not a mog town.
It’s the top dog town,
for miles around.
Even the coolest cat
will not be found
upon this doggone red hot ground
they call
Tjuntjuntjara.

Except this cat.

This Tjuntjun cat is a courageous cat,
a cautious, trepidatious cat.
For it is disadvantageous
to even be a cat
in Tjuntjuntjara.
In Tjuntjun it’s dogs that rule the roost.
They roam the streets,
play fast and loose
with the lives of any creature,
great or small,
that’s not a dog.

The Tjuntjun cat
must keep its cats eyes peeled.
It’s a battlefield
where every day
you’re a whisker away
from Death by Dog.
But this brave moggie’s
gonna make real sure
it don’t end up
as the plate du jour
at the Desert Dog Café.


No, the Tjuntjun cat
won’t be seen cat-nappin
while the Tjuntjun dogs
are out cat-trappin.
There can be no catnaps
til the cat-flap’s flappin
and the Tjuntjun cat’s
curled up on its cushion,
dreamin its dream
of revolution
in the alleyway.
When every pet
when every stray
when every cat’s
gonna have its day. . .
. . . in Tjuntjuntjara.

Tjuntjuntjara (sounds quite like Joon-Joon-Jarra) is a remote Aboriginal community in the Great Victoria Desert region of Western Australia (Photo: Stewart Ennis)

Forever And A Day by Warren Cox

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So still so cool so quiet
beneath our favourite tree.
A secret place the two of us,
just my dad and me.

Sheltered from the outside
by the stories he’d recite.
Magic words that lived on
in the tranquil dreams of night.

And I believed in magic.
Too young to comprehend.
Too innocent to think that
this – my world could ever end.

As we sat within the quiet.
“Please dad” I tried to say.

“Can we please sit here just like this,
forever and a day?”


He was trying hard to tell me
just why he couldn’t stay.
he said, “But I’ll still love you
forever and a day.”

“See – your mum and I have spoken
and I have to go away.
But I will always love you
forever and a day.”

I didn’t understand of course,
all that he had to say.
But I knew my heart would ache for him
forever and a day.

Spelling Time by Warren Cox

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My very favourite time in class
is when we’re having spelling.
‘Cause that’s the time our teacher’s face
turns red from constant yelling.

“Those words were in your homework.
Ten times you wrote them out.
This class will be the end of me.
Why must you make me shout?

I’ll telephone your parents.
Your nonsense will be ended.
I’ll send you to the Principal
and have you all suspended.

I’ll ban you from the library.
There’ll be no more free reading.
Until you prove to me that
with your homework you’re succeeding.

No class time toilet visits.
You’ll have to just be strong.
No music, art, or play time
when you get your spellings wrong.

By now the teacher’s pacing.
His breathing is quite fast.
And all the kids are placing bets
on how long he can last.

Then finally it’s over
and he sits down at his table.
We know he’d like to say some more
but right now he’s not able.

That’s when we all begin to clap
And “Bravo !” someone shouts.
We’ll all do better next time Sir.
Of that there are no doubts.

The teacher asks “You promise?
In that case I’ll stop yelling.”
Oh yes! My favourite time in class
is when we’re having spelling.

Henry The Mouse by Toni Newell

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Henry,
was a little mouse
Who lived in the basement
Of a very large house.
 
At night,
when the lights went out
Henry would surface
And wander about.

He’d go to the kitchen 
In search of some food
And eat what he fancied
Dependent on mood.

Sometimes,
He yearned for a little sweet
He’d raid the cupboard 
To find what to eat.

He’d spend the night
Collecting food
To take back to
His little brood.

Mrs Henry was 
Delighted to see 
All the goodies provided
For the family tea.

Henry was clever
And avoided the traps
That held peanut butter
And that’s why perhaps.

He wasn’t a fan
Of that particular spread
Which saved his life
Otherwise he’d be dead.

Henry had lived
In the house for five years
Had avoided the traps
Which was one of his fears.

So Henry continued
Whilst his family grew
But dwellings were shrinking
Need to find somewhere new.

So he sent his grown children
To the house next door
He helped them set up
Which was quite a big chore.

Now two happy families 
Live side by side
Mrs Henry and Henry
Are both filled with pride.

Rhyming Rhino by Graham Seal

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They say my words are quite absurd,
my poems most preposterous,
my rhymes are poor, my rhythms wild,
my metre’s all quite monstrous.

But I don’t care what they say,
one day I will be prosperous,
because I am the world’s only
poetic rhinoceros.

Have You Ever? by Warren Cox

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Have you ever seen a turtle swimming with a whale?
Have you ever seen an elephant dancing with a snail?
Have you ever seen a grasshopper hopping with a frog?
Or a big fat walrus barking like a dog?

Have you ever seen a wagtail without a tail to wag?
Have you ever seen a hippo and a rhino playing tag?
Have you ever seen a kookaburra eating Christmas cake?
Or a lion and a tiger, laughing at a snake?

Have you ever seen a billy goat flying through the air?
Have you ever seen an alligator sitting on a chair?
Have you ever seen a goldfish splashing in your pool?
Or a baa baa black sheep on its way to school?

Have you ever seen an emu nesting in a tree?
Have you ever seen a butterfly bathing with a bee?
Have you ever seen a panda bear sliding on a sled?
Or a big bad wolf standing on its head?

Have you ever seen a rooster slipping down a slide?
Have you ever seen a peacock at the sea-side?
Have you ever seen a kitten give a puppy dog a hug?
Or a huge great dane shaking paws with a pug?

Have you ever seen a monkey dressed up like a clown
Have you ever seen a kangaroo hanging upside down?
Have you ever seen a rabbit thumb its nose at a fox
Or a two humped camel with its head inside a box

If you’ve never watched a wombat make dinner for a goat,
or a rooster and a rabbit drinking coffee on a boat.
If you’ve never seen a turkey doing ballet with a duck,
then I’ve got to say, “Dear children, you are just plain out of luck.”

The Colour of Life by Toni Newell

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Green strokes on paper
Underneath the blue
Depicting a rain forest
Greens of different hue.

Nature’s bountiful
Beautiful and clean
The foundation of life
And very often green.

Green symbolizes life
Producing oxygen
Which keeps us all alive
The world and mortal men.

Green’s pleasant to the eye
Calming and free
Covering mountains,
Shimmering from a tree.

The colour green’s alive
It’s vibrant and lush
And beautifully captured
By strokes with a brush.

Photo by Pixabay

My River of Dreams by James Aitchison

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Here is where I’d like to float,

in my very own white boat.

I’d slowly rock from side to side,

while sleeping on the gentle tide.

Sometimes I’d sail upstream in style,

and that would make life so worthwhile.

I’d catch some fish to cook each day,

and leave my troubles far away.

Teacher’s note: This poem could invite a class discussion about why people love their boats and rivers.  What dreams do students have about a “dream” escape?

Time and Tide by James Aitchison

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The waves roll in, cunning waves 

and hungry;

the stone stacks wonder when 

they too will fall.

Headlands brace themselves 

against the wild tide,       

and, in time, the ocean 

will devour the shore.

Teacher’s note: The Twelve Apostles are limestone stacks off the shore near Port Campbell, Victoria.  The harsh waves from the Southern Ocean slowly erode the soft limestone in the cliffs to form caves, which later become arches that eventually collapse leaving up to fifty-metre high stacks. 

Nature’s Knitting by James Aitchison

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Howling winds

from raging seas,

relentless, wild,

distort the trees.

Stunted growth

in salty air,

in sandy soil,

forlorn and bare.

Yet even here 

we find beauty,

in harsh and tangled

symmetry.