On a shady pathway
In the park
I met a duck
Halfway up.
He waddled left,
He waddled right,
That duck on the steps
Was quite a sight.
I asked him, “What are you doing here?”
He said, “Practising my waddle, dear.”
We sat and chatted for a time
Then off he went
To continue his climb.
When he reached the top
He flapped his wings
And turned back to me
With a cheeky duck grin.
Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #38
If you like to eat cold meat and consider that a treat,
Have you ever thought of adding chilli sauce?
Use a little, not a lot, since this sauce is rather hot
And you wouldn’t want to singe your tongue, of course.
Don’t be led astray by greed and take more than you will need.
If you do, I can assure you, you’ll regret it.
Though your tongue may twist and turn, your whole mouth will seem to burn
And I doubt you’ll soon be able to forget it!
Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #32
Monty says: The pickle prompt got me thinking about other sauces and relishes which adults enjoy, but children’s palates may not be prepared for.
A clown with a cauliflower ear
Decided that he would appear
In a colander hat
With a cute climbing cat.
But the cat said
‘Not likely my dear.’
Cumin to my kitchen
is a warming winter soup
starring cauliflower of course
the biggest top in town.
Collected in my colander
Is my tender little troupe
but as I rinse them in a rivulet
something wriggles then rolls down
he has practiced this performance
to avoid birds and their beaks
he seems suited to a circus
he’s like a caterpillar clown
fills with the shrieks
of flying foxes,
street lights
cast strange shadows
and the last ferry
blinks across the harbour,
the tide lap-lapping
the foreshore,
as the city stretches,
then curls in
upon itself.
Through the Looking Glass
Volume V Issue I, March 2016
Nadine said: The pickle prompt a while back made me think of a nonsense poem I wrote for Sally Odger’s upcoming poetry anthology, which played with the idea of ants of both sweet and savoury varieties.
At the School Camp
In our hut, I’m first awake.
I peer through the curtains –
nothing’s stirring out there
except for three magpies and a crow
looking for their breakfast – maybe a worm
or two. Haven’t they slept? It’s only six o’clock!
Everyone in this hut is still asleep.
Then suddenly I see the sun
climbing, climbing, ever so slowly –
a faraway orange
that I can’t reach.
(Published in Read Me At School (ed Gaby Morgan, Macmillan Children’s
Books, 2009)
Katherine said: I love LOOK as a POETRY PROMPT . It reminded me of my poem AT THE SCHOOL CAMP inspired by a wonderful sunrise in a weekend camp at Axedale, near Bendigo, Victoria.
Rambling round the ruins
Found in Greece and Rome,
We are merely tourists
Very far from home.
What it’s like to live here
We can only guess.
Is it full of interest?
Hear us answer: “Yes!”
Ruins tell us stories
Of a nation’s past,
But its former glories
Often do not last.
Wars and evil leaders
Good things can destroy;
Plagues and vile diseases
Steal a nation’s joy.
Rambling round the ruins,
Climbing steps and stairs,
Weaving through the columns,
We cast off our cares.
Here we hide from siblings;
Trick our dad and mum;
Once we were reluctant.
Now we’re glad we’ve come!
Monty says: Children can turn even ancient ruins into playground equipment at will!
Down sunbeams
Through shadows,
Along the light dancing…
I see in your hand waves,
The flick of your lashes,
A glimmer of laughter,
A shimmered illusion
Of flight
But not quite…
Reflections in water
Rippling,
Stars in the sky pool
Tripling,
Over the shoulder
Glancing,
Smiles from my daughters
Dancing!
A young platypus was recently sighted in Melbourne’s Yarra River, where it winds through the inner city suburb of Abbotsford.
The platypus at Abbotsford is new upon this earth.
It isn’t very long ago its mother gave it birth.
It views the world with wonder, and it moves with merry mirth,
And doesn’t see the dangers in the shadows.
The platypus at Abbotsford is learning how to dive,
And all the other little tricks it needs to stay alive.
Let’s hope it does much more than live, and learns to really thrive,
But perils lie in wait in all directions.
The platypus at Abbotsford is thrilled to find such space.
It can’t believe that others have not occupied this place.
It doesn’t know they did, but failed to prosecute their case.
Their bones lie buried in the river’s bottom…
The platypus at Abbotsford gives hope, gives joy, gives heart
That each and every one of us will play our vital part
In making sure that platypus gets off to a great start
To face an even more successful future!
Australian Children’s Poetry 