“Mysterious Visitor”
Windows frame a world of white
Everything erased from sight
Where are flowers, birds and trees?
Lost among the misty seas
Wispy waves drown out all sound
Silence shrouds the cloudy ground
Claws of cold try to get in
Goosebumps prickle on my skin
What’s that scary shape I spy?
Creeping close, a real bad guy
Frosty fingers haze their face
My poor heart begins to race
Then a sly grin carves the gloom
Quickly, I run from the room
Feeling brave, no need to hide
Open up the front door wide
‘Gran! That must have been a slog
Walking through this horrid fog.’
The Slippery Slide
I’m the old slippery slide,
King of the playground,
All the kids slide down me,
As squeals and laughter sound.
Many things have been replaced,
However, I’m still there,
And lots of little bottoms,
Still slide down without a care.
Green Thumbed in the Garden –
Thinking of our poets in Victoria.
Keep Safe.
It’s only been a week,
Second time around,
Thought it might be easier,
But it wasn’t found.
Adrenaline has gone,
We’ve just settled in,
Now resigned to it,
And the discipline.
Life is so restricted,
Activities are few,
Going for a walk,
A little shopping too.
The rest of the time,
A prisoner at home,
But it’s not that bad,
If you are not alone.
No visitors allowed,
That is the decree,
And that’s okay,
If you’re with family.
It’s very hard for those,
Who do it on their own,
No one around them,
Sitting at home alone.
They too need support,
A little company,
And in these current times,
A little sympathy.
For those less fortunate,
Being on their own,
Let’s help them to survive,
And be there on the phone.
The Willie Wagtail is Australia’s best-loved and best-known fantail. And that tail wags constantly — side to side — as its owner scurries across the lawn seeking insects for a snack. Wagtails don’t mind us humans, but aggressively defend their own territories against feathered interlopers. You can tell the wagtail by its call that’s heard night and day; it sounds like “sweet-pretty-creature”.
Willie Wagtail
Sweet pretty creature,
sweet pretty creature,
that’s the sound of your call.
Sweet pretty creature,
sweet pretty creature,
the sweetest call of all.
Sweet pretty creature,
sweet pretty feature,
we love your wagging walk.
Sweet pretty creature,
sweet pretty creature,
if only you could talk.
Seasons?
Winter’s here,
Autumn’s gone,
Next we know,
Spring’s along.
Time just flies,
It’s hard to say,
Which season,
We’re in today.
Winter’s cold,
Frost or not,
Spring is wet
Summer’s hot.
It used to be,
Seasons defined,
But not today,
They seem entwined.
Australian Children’s Poetry 