Skeletons dance to a haunting tune,
as witches chant their spells to the moon.
Zombies march. White ghosts howl.
Cats screech loudly to the hoot of an owl.
Lock up your children, keep them inside.
Beware what will happen, so run – run and hide.
They will join in the march, zombies witches and more,
and fill you with dread as they knock on your door.
Knock. Knock. KNOCK!
Trick or treat?
In response to Celebrations prompt
You can carry a laptop to school,
but it wasn’t always that way.
The first computers were huge,
way back in the day.
They were used to break secret codes,
so we’d know the enemy’s plans.
And after the war was over,
they were soon in everyone’s hands.
We take them for granted today,
but once they didn’t exist.
If we didn’t have them now,
do you think they would be missed?
Teacher’s note: During the Second World War, Alan Turing (1912—1954) was a code breaker who worked in Hut 8 at Bletchley Park in England. Pictured above is a bombe, the electromechanical machine which cracked the enemy’s Enigma code. Turing’s pioneering work in computer technology sped the development of today’s computers. It is estimated that his code breaking computer science shortened the war in Europe by more than two years and saved over 14 million lives.
I bought a tube of toothpaste
and squeezed it from the top.
I was getting lots of toothpaste out,
till people yelled for me to stop!
“You should squeeze it from the bottom,
then roll the tube up neatly.
That way you won’t waste toothpaste
’cause you’ll use it all completely!”
Teacher’s note: Use this poem to ask students how they avoid wasting toothpaste and other products around the home, and why it’s a good idea to avoid wastage of any kind.
I love birthdays
Welcome down to Earth days
Full of fun and mirth days
Widening the girth days
Evaluating worth days
Leading back to earth days
I love birthdays!
In response to Celebrations prompt.
We’re celebrating pasta
all around the world,
spaghetti and linguine
are being swirled and twirled.
Ravioli’s all the rage!
Rigatoni’s lots of fun!
I think my gnocchi rocks!
Some penne anyone?
Macaroni and fusilli,
canelloni, fettuccine,
tagliatelle, vermicelli,
agnolini, tortellini —
Let’s celebrate them all,
every kind of pasta!
There’s nothing like a pasta
to fill your tummy faster.
In response to Celebrations prompt.
So many types of pasta
Of many varied shapes
All of the same ingredient
Yet a difference it makes.
There’s rigatoni and penne
And also shells and bows
Spaghetti, tagliatelle,
Linguini, and on it goes.
And the sauces are so varied
Bolognese, to start the list
But the cook can be creative
And give the sauce a twist.
It’s no wonder that it’s honoured
For its versatility
An ingredient of many shapes
Can produce such variety.
So, let us celebrate
On the twenty fifth of October
World Pasta Day
This year and forever after.
In response to Celebrations prompt
Oh, moth you are not a butterfly,
indeed – you are not.
Eclipse is a group of you,
many varied species,
more than a hundred and fifty thousand,
to be sure.
Hummingbird, Sphinx,
Garden Tiger, Giant Leopard,
Comet, Peppered,
Wax and Diamondback
all have one thing in common,
names belonging to you.
Mostly nocturnal are you,
active during twilight.
Camouflage is one of your defences,
avoiding detection from hungry predators.
Enjoy your time as a moth,
your life span is brief.
Your body is wide, thick and hairy,
sensory hairs you could boast.
Then there is your feather like antennae’s,
and your amazing sense of smell.
Not to mention your exceptional vision,
eyes with hexagonal lens.
You love to flutter and fly,
with earth tone-coloured wings,
though there are exceptions to the rule,
moths clothed with adoring colours.
Mothing, is a wonderful pastime,
time to watch and observe.
You are not a butterfly,
indeed – you are not,
you are a moth!
Written by one of our young poets who is only 10 years old.
Now I’m in the shopping mall,
And my heartbeat starts to fall,
For my mother darts about the stores with haste,
And the crowd is closing in,
Forcing me onto my shins,
I get lost and feel like this trip is a waste.
People whizzing by the aisles,
Each step feeling like 10 miles,
And I feel like crawling deep inside a hole.
I stand upright and I wheeze,
As the doubt brushes my knees,
It’s like people are giants, and I’m a mole.
I was starting to panic,
Other kids looking ecstatic,
As they laugh and play around with their mothers.
The longer I am away,
The more I feel like a stray,
Sadness fills me, and my life loses colours.
I’m starting to feel despair,
As my sorrow fills the air,
I believe that I am lost forever more.
I give the stuffed toys a hug,
As I’m longing for some love,
Open my eyes, mum says, “Get up from the floor!”
He’s big and fat and noisy,
He buzzes ’round my head.
I know he carries lots of germs,
That’s why I want him DEAD!
He crawls across the windowpane —
He’s absolutely rude! —
Then squats and rubs his grubby legs,
On top of all my food.
I tried to swat that blowie
With a paper nicely rolled,
But — tinkle, crash — I missed
And smashed mum’s wedding bowl.
Next I got a schoolbook,
And whacked him hard with that,
The monstrous fly went down
With a great big juicy SPLAT!
The moral of my story
Is that education’s great,
Not only does it make you smart,
It keeps flies off your plate.
i pluck weeds
by a white wall
come spring
i move the mower
over a mountain of green
come spring
i brush the rough
old deck clean
come spring
i look up at
all the weeds
growing in the gutter
In response to prompt Spring Has Sprung
Australian Children’s Poetry 