A small object of fate
Sits on a leaf of green dew
Hidden in his smallness.
Little red and black creature
Crawling along endless stems
Paths that lead overboard
Crossing over lines with tiny feet
Pattering towards safety.
In a safe blanket of grass and daisies
Hunting for a crumb of food
Or a bed untrodden by feet.
Illustration by Gemma Creegan
Roses drip their dewy secrets
The air is sweet and perfumed
With jasmine, sage and lavender.
Clouds merge to form laughter
Birds sing for the love of Spring
Blades of grass reach for the sky.
I glimpse a fairy in a hedge
Her face glows like moon shine
Reflecting the lilies on the pond.
Illustration by Gemma Creegan
If a Thesaurus
came before us
would it claw us?
Or even gnaw us,
as soon as it saw us?
Not really.
A Thesaurus is a book
stuffed full of words,
so it would probably
just ignore us.
(As published in The Dirigible Balloon)
This emu is fine,
obeying the sign,
doing no more than forty.
To run any faster
could spell disaster
and would be very naughty.
Teacher’s note: This photo was captured near Wilsons Promontory where many emus roam in the wild.
Good Evening,
I would like to take this opportunity to let you know we have found a new administrator for the Australian Children’s Poetry Website. Kerry Gittins will be taking over the site from Monday. I wish her all the best in this and look forwards to seeing where she takes this valuable and treasured resource.
I would like to thank you all for your support and words of encouragement in the five years I have been the administrator. I have had a number of regulars who have committed themselves to writing and helped keep the site going and thriving with contributions .
All the best to you all in your individual writing endeavours. Let us all keep writing to support Kerry in her new role to keep poetry and especially Australian Children’s Poetry alive.
Thank-you All
Regards
Jeanie Axton
I met a man with seven heads
Who had to sleep in seven beds.
But even worse, he had five legs,
Which an urgent question begs:
Can five legs fit on seven beds,
Or should he lose two of his heads?
Australian Children’s Poetry 