Zombie Treat or Trick by Erica Chester

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In Zombie Land each year
As Halloween is getting near
The zombie kids all flip their lids
In excitement … and in fear

For all around their zombie town
The spider webs are coming down
The city street is looking neat
And a smile now replaces a frown

A friendly giggle replaces a groan
Front lawns look so freshly mown
The filthy floor is cleaned once more
And all the scattered leaves are blown

The kids all shop with zombie force
They’ll have no zombie buyer’s remorse
They change their mind at least one time
They’re dressing as humans of course

They hide their greenish zombie faces
With make-up from expensive places
Brushed hair, perfumed here and there
They leave no zombie traces

They happily skip along their street
They hope for a trick or at least a treat
They wave and smile, chat for a while
And maybe even enjoy a sweet

Tomorrow is back to roaming around
Making a horrible groaning sound
Feeling down, wearing a frown
And sleeping under the ground

Image from Pexels by Mike Jones

Kindness by James Aitchison

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Kindness is the biggest thing,

kindness makes the whole world sing.

Bigger than the mountains here,

deeper than the lakes appear,

kindness makes our lives worthwhile,

kindness always makes us smile.

When you show kindness anywhere,

it means the world that yes, you care.

New Zealand mountains seen from helicopter. Photo by Ginette Pestana

A Careless Spark by James Aitchison

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The fires came through the other day,

blazing fierce, no warning given.

A careless spark, a flash of red,

and then it grew, by strong winds driven.

It jumped the road, it charred the land,

firefighters fought it, no houses lost.

But this was home to wildlife too;

in terms of them, who’ll count the cost?

After the Dean fire near Creswick, Victoria. Image courtesy of Gina Pestana

Cricketing Around by Meryl Brown Tobin

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Did you call me a grasshopper?
No way; I’m a cricket.
I’m one of two hundred eggs
my mum laid in the soil.

Do you reckon I look
like a mini-adult?
Sure I do because I shed my skin
as I grow and get a new one.

Notice I don’t fly much at all?
Why? Because I can’t––
my wings are too small.
See, I jump, jerk my way around.

Notice the tooth-like bits on my wings?
Only males have them. Listen, I can
rub them together. Hear a chirping sound?
It attracts the cricket chicks.

Ever heard me chirping at night?
That’s because I’m a nocturnal guy
and coldblooded so I liven up in the warm.
I’m warm now––hear me chirp.

Look out, here comes a lizard!
Hide me––I don’t want to be its snack.
Or a frog’s, a big spider’s or a tortoise’s.
Me, I love yummy fungi, plants, insects.

See my fancy compound eyes?
They let me look in many directions at once.
Check out my antennae, my feelers––
they pick up movement, help me catch prey.

Japanese and Chinese people reckon
I bring good luck. So make sure you’re nice to me.

Image from Pexels by Johnny Mckane

The Heat by Steven Scheller Benalla

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The heat, the heat, the horrible heat

Crack an egg out on the street

Don’t like egg with gravel on it?

Fry the next one on the car bonnet!

Image from Pexels by Fabio Partenheimer

The Old Fence by James Aitchison

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How long have you stood there,

by whose hand were you made?

Your slabs were rough hewn,

but carefully laid

into place, long ago,

still standing but weathered,

where a drover’s horse

was maybe once tethered.

Tell me, did bushrangers 

ever ride by you?

Did farmers’ children 

once sit astride you?

What stories you’d whisper

of history and such,

of old pioneers

whose memories we touch.

Photo courtesy of Gina Pestana

Cool For School by Linda Davidson

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I climb on a chair
To brush my hair
Cause the mirror is too high up.
My teeth feel grimy.
I’ll make them shiny
With toothpaste I keep in a cup.

Next is my face.
What a disgrace!
Warm water will do the trick.
“There’s cheese on my chin,”
I say with a grin.
Then wipe it off real quick.

I’m excited today.
I’m ready to play.
And now I look pretty cool.
I jump on the floor,
And head to the door.
“Muumm, I’m ready for school!”

Image from Vecteezy

Driftwood by James Aitchison

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Where did you come from?

How far did you float?

Too twisted and torn

to come from a boat.

What tide washed you here

and flung you ashore?

If you could but speak,

I’d love to know more.

Looking out to the Tasman Sea from New Zealand.  Photo by Ginette Pestana

Simply Sick by Jenny Erlanger

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My nose and eyes were trickling

And my throat was really tickling.

I was coming down with something, I could tell.

And I had this premonition

my particular condition

would be something that was very hard to spell.

I was sure I had an “itis”,

and most probably bronchitis

but the doctor’s looked me over, and I’m told

I don’t have pharyngitis

and I don’t have laryngitis.

What I’ve got is just a simple, common cold.

A New Day by James Aitchison

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The new morning 

quietly greets the day,    

the soft dawning

rippling the bay,

teasing the cloud,

lighting the sky,

boats in a crowd,

and on the shore,

I wonder what the 

day will be,

what adventures are

in store for me.

Near Picton, New Zealand.  Photo by Ginette Pestana