I was a happy ballerina
But now I’m feeling blue.
If you had made this blunder,
You’d be unhappy too.
I was feeling rather peckish,
So what did I do?
I ate a crunchy biscuit.
Now the crumbs are in my shoe!
There was a certain platypus
He lived in five mile creek,
Who (prompted by the latest trend)
Went vegan for a week.
He tried butternut pumpkin cubes
And purple eggplant too.
He prodded peas with spoon and fork
And sipped hot mushroom stew.
He crunched on juicy celery,
Gave artichokes a try,
Sautéed leafy silver beet,
And munched on broccoli.
No doubt the fare was healthy,
But it mostly went to waste,
For those nutritious vegetables
Just didn’t suit his taste.
So he returned to worms and such
To bugs and shrimp so fine,
And left the vegetables to us;
Omnivorous mankind.
The box looked rather ancient:
It was made of weathered wood.
They’d placed it on a varnished shelf
Where now it mutely stood.
Its latch was rather rusty,
Suggesting use at sea,
I guessed it was a sailor’s box:
That’s how it seemed to me.
I saw on it some markings
And wondered what they meant,
A letter “C” and “26”
But what was their intent?
Was “C” perhaps for “Captain”,
But why the numbers too?
I came to the conclusion
More likely “C” was “Crew”.
Each crewman had a number,
And each his box to store
Whatever most he valued,
Till he was back on shore.
I felt this was the answer.
What else then could it be,
But storage for a sailor?
That’s how it seemed to me.
The box was quite discoloured
As if it once was wet:
A relic from a wreck perhaps,
That divers dived to get.
Now salvaged from the sea bed,
Displayed for all to see,
It still held many secrets.
This fascinated me!
Whoever once had used it,
Must surely now have died.
I looked at it intently:
What had it held inside?
Beneath it was a notice.
Perhaps this held a clue?
I stopped so I could read it,
As I’d seen others do.
Just then I heard my teacher
Quite firmly call my name.
It seemed my class was moving on
So I must do the same.
Our bus outside was waiting.
I clearly couldn’t stay,
But I am now determined
I’ll go back there one day!
Monty says: “I wrote this in sympathy with children who often find it frustrating when they are prevented by adult time constraints from satisfying their curiosity about the things that interest them. Despite this, some children will go on to demonstrate that they have the confidence and resourcefulness to continue their search for answers independently.
It’s a zip line from the sky,
A flying fox of joy,
A slippery dip of shiny warmth
For every girl and boy.
Swing out to touch the sunbeams,
Spin ’round to chase the light.
Run and duck and climb and jump
To catch the sun’s delight.
Penny said: I am heavily influenced by the weather. Sunshiny days are the best medicine. As soon as I thought about my audience – children – this poem just flowed joyfully out.
This is a tale of a boy named Garth
Who was far too lazy to have a bath.
One night when he did, he suddenly spied
A black ring running around every side.
When he asked his mum, “What’s that thing?”
She took a look and said, “A black bath ring!”
“It’s the dirt from when you walked in the mud,
“And that blob of gunk is when you fell ker-THUD!
“And see all that mess stuck around the ends?
“That came from playing with your friends.”
She got a soft cloth and her special spray,
And in no time at all scrubbed the bath ring away.
“That was hard work,” Garth told his mother,
“I have an idea to save all that bother.”
And he said with the widest smile she’d seen,
“Why don’t I stay dirty so the bath stays clean?”
The sun has set in hibiscus
Whose lips still faintly burn,
And now the moon and star drops
Drip down onto the fern.
The wind’s begun to whisper
Like a lover in the dark,
And trees caress each other
With hands of leaf and bark.
Love drawn birds are singing
Somewhere under sky,
And soft wings brush together
As they glimmer by.
J.R.McRae is a published and awarded poet and fiction writer, who also writes award winning books for children and education as J.R.Poulter. Word Wings is her collaborative.
I love my orange scooter
I love my green doll
I love my purple robot
And my toy remote control.
I love my yellow digger
I love my red ball
I love my blue bucket
But my favourite toy of all,
Is my rainbow dancing ribbon
All its colours in a row
The way it flutters in the breeze
I twirl it fast and slow.
And when it’s finally time for bed
I hang it on my wall
Because, of all my toys it is
The one that’s best of all.
I am a young geologist,
I study gems and rocks,
And go fossicking for fossils,
And add them to my box.
I have all sorts of crystals,
Some are pretty rare,
Some I gathered from a beach,
I found them everywhere.
Some rocks are from volcanos,
Some wash up on a shore,
Some came from a quarry,
Where there’s many, many more.
My favourites are the shiny gems
With colours clear and bright.
From blackest black obsidian
To ones that let through light.
There’s chrysocolla, jasper,
Emerald, onyx, jade,
Amethyst, carnelian.
Their colours never fade.
Maybe when I’m older,
I’ll go digging when I’m free,
And find a new gem never seen,
And name it after me.
Pamela said: This one I wrote for my son, who is obsessed with rocks, minerals and gems. While most young children are interested in them, he takes it to the next level. He is four years old and tells anyone who’s interested that he wants to be a geologist when he grows up, he even had a geology theme for his fourth birthday. I have incorporated some of his favourite gems into the poem.
To find out more about Pamela and her writing, visit www.ueckerman.net
The moonlight shines brightly
casting dancing shadows afar.
A tiger prowls past
Creeping into the night.
Just behind a tree
a crouching black mystery
seems to be stalking
me in the deep,
dark, black night shadows.
But as I draw
closer and closer surprise!
For the black mystery
Isn’t a scary thing.
As the dancing moonlight
shines ever so brightly.
Then I see revealed
our dog Elmo hiding
behind a dark tree.
Elmo crouches and waits
to doggy surprise me
in the night so
that I’m never alone.
They fought for freedoms we hold dear
And paid an awful price.
They faced the foe and conquered fear
To make their sacrifice.
Today we honour those who died,
And others who returned,
Who with their fellows, side by side
True comradeship had learned.
May all who love Australia fair,
Both here and far away,
Ourselves aspire to gladly serve
Through sacrifice today.
Author Comment: It’s fitting that we honour the courage and sacrifice of past generations of Australian service personnel and citizens, but I believe our nation’s future largely depends on how we personally respond to their example in meeting the challenges facing our society today.
Australian Children’s Poetry 