A Poem by Warren Cox

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a poem can be quite funny

a poem can be quite sad

some poems are really sensible

while others are quite mad

some are rather silly

designed to fashion laughs

with talk of roosters ducks and geese

or large long necked giraffes

but poems can tell a story

not just be rhyming word

a poem can make your heart take flight

on strong emotions stirred

a poem can give you pleasure

wonderous and sublime

of which there is no measure

take you to another time

and poems belong to everyone

just follow where they lead

turn the page and there they are

in thought word and deed

for poetry is ancient

a timeless limitless cloak

of thoughts and feelings infinite

as old as language spoke

The Poetic Opossum by James Aitchison

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There was an opossum

who wrote an opoem.

“O! look what I’ve done,”

the opossum opined.

At the oasis or

down by the ocean,

Opossum’s opoem

received an ovation.

Was it opossible

for an opossum

to write an opoem?

Oh yes, it owas!

Teacher’s note: Opossums are native to North and South America, while possums are native to Australia.

The Big Water by James Aitchison

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From the foot of Peppercorn Hill

I flow, from a boggy heath in 

the Snowy;

I journey by Canberra,

then map my mighty course

past Gundagai and Wagga,

to where the Murray waits. 

My river’s tale is fraught

with a dozen deadly floods,

yet my relentless waters 

bless Riverina farms.

Since the dawn of time I’ve been

Australia’s Big Water —

the Murrumbidgee River,

the life source of my land.

Teacher’s note: The Murrumbidgee is Australia’s second longest river, edging the Darling into third place by a few kilometres. “Murrumbidgee”, in Wiradjuri language, means “Big Water”.  The photograph shows the Murrumbidgee at Wagga Wagga.

The Tale of Max McKnight by James Aitchison

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On his trampoline jumps Max McKnight

but he sails too high!

He’s snapped up by an eagle in flight

passing by.

Thwarted, the eagle can’t swallow the boy 

in one go,

so it opens its beak and drops poor Max like a toy 

into his backyard below.

Teacher’s note: This experimental poem reduces the line-length of a sonnet from the traditional iambic pentameter, while preserving a typical rhyme-scheme.

Scrooge’s Valentine’s Day by James Aitchison

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I should have sent some flowers,

I should have sent a card,

but then I got so busy

and it was all too hard!

So I cut some nice red roses

at next door’s in the dark,

and added lots of other things

growing in the park.

It made a lovely gift

and didn’t cost a cent.

Isn’t it the thought that counts

and not how much I spent?

Milo and I by Warren Cox

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Milo and I took a stroll through the park.
Mum said “Remember! Be home before dark.” 
We spotted a goanna hiding in the grass.
He was in our way so we couldn’t get past.

Milo can’t talk but he sure can bark.
He scared that goanna right out of the park. 
We came upon a cassowary underneath a tree.
I didn’t like the way that he was looking at me.

Milo can’t talk but he sure can bark.
He scared that bird right out of the park. 
We crept up on a snake that was resting in the shade.
It made a hissing noise and I felt quite afraid.

Milo can’t talk but he sure can bark.
He scared that snake right out of the park. 
We noticed an echidna searching for some ants,
all around the tree roots and up and down the plants.

Milo can’t talk but he sure can bark.
He scared that echidna right out of the park. 
Then I said to Milo it’s getting very dark.
It’s just about time that we were leaving this park.

But just as we’d decided we really shouldn’t stay,
who do you think was standing in our way? 
With looks on their faces that made me start to shake,
goanna, echidna, cassowary, snake.

Standing at the front and peering through the grass
was old man goanna who wouldn’t let us pass. 
And echidna and cassowary looking so mean
that my knees started knocking, what a frightening scene.

Waiting right beside them to give us such a scare
was snake with his forked tongue testing the air. 
Milo can’t talk and he couldn’t even bark.
We were both so scared we ran right out of that park!

My Sheep Rock by James Aitchison

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I saw some rocks in Ireland

and the farmer there explained,

“I built myself a little wall

to keep my sheep contained.”

“The big stones on the bottom,”

the smaller ones on top,

and it cost me not a penny

for my roaming sheep to stop.”

“And who needs to have a gate

when you have this kind of pen?

I just lift some stones away,

then put them back again.”

Teacher’s note: Dry stone walls are constructed of carefully selected interlocking stones without mortar to hold them in place. Found in hilly areas of Britain, Scotland and Ireland, especially in Connemara on the West Coast where large stones exist in the soil. One system of Irish dry stone walls was carbon-dated to 3800 BC. Closer to home, dry stone walls can be found in western Victoria, some parts of Tasmania, and around Kiama in New South Wales.

Highlands Morning by James Aitchison

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Mist weeps across the peaty land,

the breaths of ancient warriors 

clothe the peaks.  

High clouds roam above 

the raw silence, a hint of gleaming

in their midst.

Once battles rolled throughout 

these glens, as Highlanders 

fought the King’s red-coated men.

No invader has stormed 

these hills again, and peace 

rests upon the folded crests.

My Dearest by Marque Dobrow

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Frances Felicity Frankenstein
Will you be my valentine?
Though your surname is not glamorous
Your smile always makes me amorous.
Last week when I held your hand
I knew our love was something grand.
We’ve been together twelve whole weeks,
Our bond is something quite unique.
Although you have a mono-brow
I still adore you anyhow.
It’s true three of your teeth are missing,
But I don’t notice when we’re kissing.
I love to hold you every day
And know that you will always stay.
Perhaps, come many years from now,
We could exchange wedding vows.
I’ll lift your veil and kiss your freckles;
Your name will then be Mrs Jekyll.

A Dragon’s Groovy Trick by Celia Berrell

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A Thorny Dragon’s
crazy coat
has scary spikes
and grooves of note.
This makes him look
quite weird and cute.
And acts as lizard’s
drinking suit!

Capillary action is a way
that water moves
through narrow grooves.
Its surface tension
climbs and clings.
Especially to narrow things.

To get a drink
our lizard stands
beneath wet plants
or soggy sand.
The water finds
his groovy skin
then moves to mouth
and trickles-in.

Watch this National Geographic video to learn more about this amazing creature