Moon, I know
you’re rather fickle –
not long ago
you were thin as a sickle
but look at you now –
It’s night’s high noon
and you’re fat and full
as a blown balloon.
Moon, your face
is made of light
and you hang like hope
against the night,
waxing, waning,
sometimes gone,
always changing,
moving on.
BEWARE! This is a HORRIBLE poem!!
Read at your OWN RISK!!!
What’s for dinner, Mum?
First up
slurp up
sliced slug soup
seasoned with slaters.
Then
bite into
baked blowfly burgers
basted with blood.
Or
gobble down
goat gut goulash
garnished with grubs.
Next
munch up
minced mouse mousse
mingled with maggots.
Or
dive into
dragonfly dumplings
drizzled in drool.
And last of all
swill down
seaweed slime smoothies
smothered in snot.
Still hungry?
The crocodile has every right
to fall in love or have a fight.
He likes his home. He wants to stay
and have a feed and sleep and play.
But better not get in his way
or YOU won’t see another day!
So when you travel our great land
respect this resident so grand
and DON’T go swimming where he hides
among the rivers, banks and tides.
It’s not HIS fault that tourists may
taste just like croccy’s take-away!
20
Celia said: My husband is considering working in a remote coastal location in Far North Queensland where it is possible to find crocodiles lurking under the buildings. To all the people who work up there, PLEASE be careful and keep yourselves off their dinner menu!
Thanks to Stephen Whiteside for these excellent tips on writing poetry. Stephen’s collection of rhyming verse for children, ‘The Billy That Died With Its Boots On’ and Other Australian Verse, was published by Walker Books in 2014. In 2015, the book won a “Golden Gumleaf” award for “Book of the Year” at the Australian Bush Laureate Awards during the Tamworth Country Music Festival. Visit his website for more details.
What’s inside the feely bag?
Please tell us what you feel.
A slimy, slippery frog perhaps,
That makes you squirm and reel.
A ragged, worn-out kitchen sponge,
That’s squelchy, smelly, wet.
Or Cody’s wriggly garden worms,
The biggest he could get.
Do bristles scrape your fingertips,
When lifting something up?
Is it a nailbrush, Stickle Brick,
Some Velcro in a cup?
It may be soft with rubber wings,
And live inside a cave.
A tingly touch might make you scared
To guess you must be brave.
Lynette said: I wrote about preschool children who are willing to put their hands in a Feely Bag and guess what the contents might be. This activity promotes language development.
Have you heard the story of Montague Shoe?
He fitted a left foot — ’twas all he could do.
But the shoe that fitted the right foot was lost,
So into the trashcan poor Monty was tossed.
But there in the trash Montague found
A shoe for a right foot — ’twas perfectly sound.
They became a new pair, one black and one blue,
And that was the story of Montague Shoe.
I strolled in the woods,
Wearing a red hood.
Looking cool in the neighbourhood.
I knock, knocked at Granny’s door.
I heard a terrible snore.
Just like a dinosaur roar.
Poor granny lay dead still.
Given a sleeping pill.
I’m no dill.
My eyes could see
You were dressed to trick me.
I pretended all was as it should be.
In the big four-poster bed you lay,
Hoping I would play.
But this was my day to make you pay.
All was not what it seemed.
Your sharp teeth gleamed.
Showing you for who you are was my dream.
A mean cold stare,
Laid you bare.
Come closer you dared.
I had to be brave
To save poor granny from the grave.
Coming your way was a shock wave.
I may be sweet and dressed in red
But you should be filled with dread.
That isn’t Granny in the sickbed.
I asked the secret code word of you
You looked blue
You had no clue.
Three letters please
Don’t be a tease.
I can see you freeze
Tell me now
Stop wrinkling your brow
On your nose ‘kapow!’
The code word is red.
Your face is red.
You run with dread.
Sharing is caring
Your red face is laid bare
For now there is no one you can scare.
Run river run:
sIlver over stones
riVer sobs and moans;
briEf gleam in the sun:
riveR run and run.
Run River run
rapId to the seas;
riVer leap with ease,
tEasing just for fun:
River run and run.
Why
“Why?” as a child is a popular word.
It shows that we want to know more of our world.
And sometimes we learn
some incredible things:
Like why the sky’s blue
and what is a gnu
and how you can catch
the measles and ‘flu.
And back in the past
how much harder life was
because of the things
that nobody knew.
It’s part of our nature to want to know why
despite that the answer’s a truth or a lie.
And sometimes we learn
some incredible myths:
Like why Santa comes
only once a year.
And when will the Easter
Bunny appear.
Descriptions of monsters
that cause us great fear.
And how crystal balls
make everything clear.
While we’re a child, all answers seem true
(until we get older and think them all through).
But even as adults we frequently find
it’s not always easy to change our mind!
Celia said: Got a question? Nowadays we can look for answers on the internet any time 24/7. But how can we tell if the information we find there is true or false? That’s another question!
I have a younger brother,
Who recently turned four.
He asks Mum many questions
And then he asks some more.
I tried to ask our mother
Why he kept asking “Why?”
The answer that she gave me
Was one enormous sigh.
She then breathed in quite deeply
And started to explain
How asking all those questions
Was strengthening his brain.
For as we all get older
And use our ears and eyes,
Our questions bring us answers:
The “Why?”s help make us wise.
Monty says: “The numerous question marks of the prompt made me think of the many questions asked by young children that may test a parent’s patience, but are an essential part of a child’s development.”
Australian Children’s Poetry 