Two tiny stripey kittens
think that I’m a tree
with sharpened claws
and agile paws
they scale my legs
to the knee.
At table height
they alight
to see what they can get
a tasty treat,
some cheese, some meat,
two cheeky little pets.
Scratched and sore
I shoo them off
to scamper on the floor,
but turn my back
and just like that,
they shimmy up for more.
Through the Looking Glass
Volume V Issue I, March 2016
Twinkle star, Twinkle bright!
A clamour of glamour across the night!
Little stars, eyes alight,
Tutus and tights, bold and bright!
How do I look? Have I got it right?
Will I look a lovely sight?
Please, don’t let me get stage fright…
Oh I’m trying with all my might!
I SO want my star to shine tonight!
Once a climbing clown,
Clambered up a tower,
Colander in hand,
Plus a cauliflower.
What he had in mind,
No-one seemed to know
And it wasn’t clear,
How far up he’d go.
After quite a climb
He had reached the top,
Items still in hand,
He then let them drop!
Neither looked the same,
Fallen from the tower,
Not the colander,
Nor the cauliflower!
Monty says: I enjoy writing rhyming verse with a bit of humour included and sometimes short lines add to the effect. Rhyming words for ‘cauliflower’ and ‘clown’ in ‘tower’ and ‘down’ helped provide the ideas for the basic content of the poem.
We’re the flu, we’re the flu, we’re the flu!
We come every winter to you.
You sneeze and you sniffle. Ah choo!
We’re the flu, we’re the flu, we’re the flu!
We give you a fever and chill.
We make you feel terribly ill.
Your throat will turn red
As you groan in your bed.
We sap you of all of your will.
But wait, there is more to come yet.
You’ll shiver in puddles of sweat.
Your muscles will throb
As your health we will rob.
You’ll wail. You’ll whimper. You’ll fret.
Your body will kill us, we know,
But long before that, we will go.
You’ll cough and you’ll sneeze,
And you’ll spread your disease,
As from victim to victim we flow.
Yes, being the flu is such fun.
From person to person we run.
We never stand still.
We can make thousands ill
Before all our labours are done.
But wait, this is terribly mean.
Our faces are turning bright green.
Have mercy, oh please,
On this humble disease.
We can’t fight the dreaded vaccine!
On match days,
I try to make sure
I play very well
and am first to score.
My team’s in blue,
the others are in grey.
In the heat of the minute
if I give the ball away,
it’ll be just too bad,
I won’t be picked next time;
it couldn’t be worse
if I’d committed a crime.
Don’t worry, Dad says,
A game’s just a game
but I’d like to be a star ̶
maybe make my name.
Katherine said: My poem ‘Playing the Game’ is in response to the notion of ‘star performance’, being a star, however briefly and so on. Especially on the sports field.
Big, powerful white bear,
Lives in Arctic cold,
Strong, firm, white,
Covered in protective fur,
Black eyes, sharp claws,
Hungry belly,
That gnaws away all day.
This snowy white land,
That was once your friend.
Is melting away earlier,
Freezing up later.
Struggling to hunt seals.
You need to travel further and further
Less sea ice
More walking
More swimming
How far will you have to go?
Only the weather knows
Lucky you are strong,
But who knows for how much longer?
Will there still be a place in the Arctic Cold for you?
Or will you just disappear into nowhere?
I will go into the three bears’ house
I won’t be frightened like a mouse.
I will eat porridge from a spoon
I won’t fear that they’ll be home soon.
I will sit in this tiny chair
Just to show that I don’t care.
I won’t be scared and I won’t run—
But listen, look out, here they come.
I will perhaps have some concern,
The porridge has made my tummy turn.
I hear a stamping at the door,
I hear great footsteps on the floor.
I won’t dawdle, I need to hide!
Look, a bed, I’ll jump inside.
Flatten myself under the blanky
Hope the bears aren’t feeling cranky.
I will be quiet, I won’t shift
I will not toot or I’ll be sniffed.
I will sneeze, I just can’t stop it!
They’ve heard me now, I’d better hop it
Papa Bear, Mama Bear and little Wee
Have no porridge and might eat me!
I’ll quit this window (second floor)
I won’t come back here anymore.
I’ve been roaming through the ruins
Finding the foundations
Sifting through the centuries;
The nativity of nations
A pantheon of the powerful
Creating colosseums
Stones torn from a temple
The remnants of religion
Even obelisks from Egypt
Claimed from Cleopatra
by Romulus and Remus
Are repurposed by St Peter
I’ve been roaming through the ruins
of Mankind and his motions
Sifting through the centuries;
The nativity of notions
Dandy dinosaurs dancing
Dreamy dinosaurs drinking
Dexterous dinosaurs dinking
Dainty dinosaurs dazzling
Devilish dinosaurs diving
Dozy dinosaurs dallying
Delicate dinosaurs dawdling
I can
Banana bend
Licorice twist
Jelly wibble wobble.
See me
Caterpillar creep
Snake slither
Deer dash and dart.
I am
Rock steady
Tree tall
River rush and flow.
Love this
Body mine
Body strong
This moving marvel.
First Published in Blast Off July 2005
Australian Children’s Poetry 