A skip and a hop,
a jump and a run,
Easter Sunday
is mega fun!
The eggs are hidden
everywhere,
up in trees,
under the stair.
Some are green,
some are red,
some are even
under my bed.
I’ll have a feast when
my search is complete;
and save the rest
for my friends to eat.
Photo from Pexels by Boris Manev
Henry was on an egg hunt
he headed quickly outside
bright and early Easter morning
excited for what he would find
He spotted a big brown egg
his left hand performing the scoop
But Alas! as it bounced in the bucket
Not an egg! but his pet dogs poop
Now his dog is in the laundry
she is safely locked-away
Henry then cleaned his bucket
and got on with Easter Day
Image from Stockcake
The song that I will sing for you
will be the greatest ever sung,
greater than the loudest bell
that ever has been rung.
I will sing my song by day and night,
in sunshine or in rain,
and when my song is over
I will begin again.
And so my song will grow and ring
forever bright and new,
bringing joy to everyone,
but most of all
to you.
Image from Stockcake
I hear what sounds like footsteps
From beneath the stairs
Where all my many sneakers live
In colour coded pairs.
I hear a lot of movement
And voices raised up high
There seems to be contention
Amongst sneakers standing by.
Each want to have an outing
And are fighting for position
But fail to understand
That the choice is my decision.
It’s all about my wardrobe
And what I choose to wear
Determining my selection
Although seemingly unfair.
The noise is getting louder
I will have to take some action
Read to them the riot act
To end this senseless faction.
So down the stairs I go
Open the cupboard door
To find all the sneakers
Lying quietly on the floor.
A smile returns to my lips
As I survey sneakers galore
Admiring the many colours
And for them what lay in store.
Image from Stockcake
An almighty roar
A frightening sound
Could be heard in the castle
And all around.
The dragon was angry
His head stretching high
Flames soared from his lips
Followed by a deep sigh.
How could he get in?
The portcullis was down
Unable to enter
He adorned a frown.
He had a conundrum
Should he stay and just wait
Or return to his home
And there contemplate.
Marion, his betrothed
Was on the other side
She had been kidnapped
To prevent becoming his bride.
Nothing could be done
As the situation stood
Locked out of the castle
Didn’t look good.
Perhaps he could plead
To the one on the throne
And try to convince him
He could his sins atone.
Show he was worthy
Of Marion’s hand
And would love and protect
All those on the land.
He could disguise himself
Follow in the next train
Entering the portcullis
And from roaring refrain.
So that’s what he did
He followed inside
Sneaked into the castle
In search of his bride.
A wailing he heard
Which came from above
He instantly knew
That it came from his love.
He ran up the stairs
Whispered through the door
It is me my love
Together we’ll be forever more.
The sobbing stopped
Her face appeared
He was so lost in love
He no longer feared.
Arm in arm together
They searched for the King
Whose blessing they sought
And whose praises they’d sing.
They’d seek his approval
Which they hadn’t before
Thus creating this problem
A necessary chore.
As it turned out
The King was impressed
He pardoned the dragon
For his regress.
The dragon was happy
He had used his guile
As the King looked on
With a surreptitious smile.
Image from Stocktake
I’d blown the birthday candles out
and sliced up all the cake
and then I did a silly thing.
I made a grave mistake.
I chose to do a clever trick
I’d seen performed before,
a trick to stun my party guests,
to dazzle them, for sure.
And so I grabbed the table cloth
and yanked with all my might,
anticipating gasps of awe
and squeals of pure delight.
But sadly, nothing stayed in place,
I can’t forget the sound
of glasses, bowls and dinner plates
all crashing to the ground.
The birthday cake, the party pies
and every other treat
went hurtling briefly through the air
then landed at our feet.
I could have been an instant star
but I’d just blown my chance.
If only I had made the time
to practise in advance.
Photo from Pexels by Ivan Samkov
Let’s sit down and write a book,
The first line matters — it’s called the “hook”.
Then off we go with Chapter One,
The words are flowing, isn’t it fun?
The story’s building, what a great plot,
With twists and turns, it’s got the lot.
There are so many stories to tell your friends,
With exciting beginnings and happy ends!
Photo from Stockcake Free Images
Trees talk.
Conifers converse.
So do evergreens ever shut up?
Or do eucalypts evoke?
Do beech and birch trees
blather and babble?
Do pine trees
permanently prattle,
or tall trees
tittle-tattle?
Silently they do,
through fungal threads.
Moist underground,
a tangle of mycelium,
like mushroom wires,
like strands of chemistry,
sends messages,
warnings and nourishment.
From root to root.
From tree to tree
en-route connecting
their own internet community.
Photo from Pixabay
My underpants are white and blue;
One day I dropped them in the loo.
I heard them gurgle down the pipe,
But couldn’t find them on my Skype.
How far, how far, will they travel?
I hope the stitches won’t unravel!
And if they’re in some spooky drain,
Will I ever see them again?
What if the sewer goes out to sea?
My underpants might reach Fiji!
Or has some big fish put them on?
I think my underpants have gone!
Image from ABC News
Australian Children’s Poetry 