See the flowers
all pop out.
See the leaves
grow all about.
So much colour
all around,
like a paintbox
upside down.
Me and My Recorder (A Story) by Marcus Ten Low
Leave a commentI picked-up my recorder
and started blowing loudly,
a tootle-oo and tootle-ay
while Dad was snoring proudly;
I leant over his breathing chest
to listen to his heart,
then went outside playing my tune
as stars lit-up the chart;
I stood on tiptoe, eating grapes
on this side of the neighbor’s fence;
and played my pipes, until their dog
emerged in their defence;
but as I stood under the stars
and played my pretty song,
the dog stuck-out his wet old tongue,
and then began to croon along—
and all the cats hidden among
the roses then pricked their sharp ears,
until I’d played my last this night—
the cats and dogs (with no more fears)
slept soundly then, but woe, alas,
my Dad came-out to yell and scream
at me for waking him, and he awoke
the cats and dogs, and then
I woke-up from my dream…
Photo from Pexels by Alexas Fotos
Squally Spring by Pauline Cleary
Leave a commentIt’s quite a blustery Spring this year.
It’s quite a squally Spring.
The wind is whistling at my door.
That wind can surely sing.
It’s really good for flying kites
and getting washing dry.
It blows away the cobwebs,
tosses clouds across the sky.
But I wouldn’t mind if it settles soon,
if the trees don’t shake and bend.
A little peace would be just fine.
I wish that wind would end.
Photo from Pexels by Bogdan Krupin
Springtime Is Here by Linda Davidson
Leave a commentSpringtime is here and winter is gone.
Now is the time for calves to be born.
Springtime is here, with new life bursting through.
There’s new leaves on trees and baby birds in nests too.
Springtime is here so wake up possum.
The sun now shines brighter and the wattle will blossom.
Springtime is here because it’s now September.
Let’s have Springtime fun until the end of November!
Photo from Pexels by Harriet B
Delia’s Hairpiece? by James Aitchison
Leave a commentDelia’s hairpiece?
Oh no, I tell a lie —
it isn’t Delia’s wig,
it’s a butterfly.
Delias harpalyce,
that’s its proper name.
(Harpalyce rhymes with Alice,
so say it once again.)
Their wings look like they’re painted,
and with black they’re lined,
but my complaint is,
they’re very hard to find!
Photo by James Aitchison
Teacher’s note: This butterfly was photographed by Philip Webster in his garden at Wattle Glen. The wingspan of Delias harpalyce reaches about 60–70 millimetres. The upper surfaces of the forewings and hindwings are a whitish with black margins and a row of small whitish spots on the apex of the forewings. In the females the black outer edges of the wings are wider than in males. The undersides of the wings are chequered whitish and black, with a yellow band on the apex of the forewings and a red band on the middle of the hindwings. They are found only in Australia’s eucalyptus forests.
Blueberries by Marcus Ten Low
Leave a commentI love to fist them by the fistful
Right into my mouth,
I eat ’em walking to and fro,
And east and north and south;
When one of them might roll away,
I grab at it, and bite it down,
At least for now, these berries be
The cheapest things in town.
These little eyeballs, blue blue blue,
The sweetest flavors, chomp and chew,
I ought to wash them under tap,
And eat and take a little nap,
And dream of where they’re grown…
Photo from Pexels by Markus Spiske
Spring Is A Thing by Celia Berrell
Leave a commentSpring is a thing,
a seasonal symphony.
Singing its songs within nature’s fine harmony.
Plants grow new buds, putting leaves on display.
Birds return home from warm winter holidays.
Insects emerge from their dark hibernation.
There’s feeding and breeding and plant propagation!
Plants take their cues
from the air’s warmer ways,
while birds are called home by the length of the days.
Cold snaps confuse some key pollinators.
Should they wake up or remain hibernators?
Come out too early, no food will have grown.
Come out too late and their flowers have gone.
Spring is a thing.
A seasonal symphony.
Dancing with daylight and climate’s warm mystery.
Photo from Pixabay
Spring Breeze by Louise McCarthy
Leave a commentSee the pretty blossoms on the trees:
Red, pink, white,
Then gone in a minute,
Stolen by the breeze.
Photo from Pexels by Brett Sayles
Scooter Squad by Graham Seal
Leave a commentThey’re tearing down
the tarmac street,
rushing by
with flying feet.
Pushing scooters
far too fast,
hope they stack ’em
on the grass!
Photo from Pexels by Marie-Ève Beaulieu
Fields of Spring by Dianne Bates
Leave a commentA wilderness of tea-trees
In our paddock playground
One free day in the midst of childhood
A day filled with everything
We are wild things,
Charging, ducking, hiding,
Flies swatting our sweaty faces
A dove, startled, flies up and
Petals fall like a sprinkle of rain
As we play
Cowboys and Indians
With imaginary guns
Bang! Bang! You’re dead!
Falling to the ground face-up
Wisps of clouds slide above
As if breathing in and out.
Photo from Pexels by jonas mohamadi
Australian Children’s Poetry 