Giggy Gilbert had a horse,
he didn’t have a cart.
He had to blow a whistle
before the horse would start.
The horse was deaf and couldn’t hear,
So Giggy, in despair,
Picked it up in both hands
And carried it everywhere.
I See A Ball by Marcus Ten Lowe
Leave a commenti see a ball,
and i hear scurrying, nearby.
and then a trundling
thing, in the tall grass, who’s smiling at me,
and then the thing
pushing the ball from motionless.
i see, now, the feet
of the thing, pushing the ball,
edging it, moving it
quicker and quicker,
through the grass,
spinning, loping, disappearing…
Jasper’s Gory Story by James Aitchison
Leave a commentPoor Jasper McGore,
by a creek for a while,
fell asleep, didn’t see
the huge crocodile.
Those mighty jaws
opened big and wide,
swallowed him whole,
but Jasper inside
tickled its tongue,
made it open one jaw,
and out climbed one half
of Jasper McGore.
Photo by Sebastien Varin on Unsplash
The Poor Poem by James Aitchison
Leave a commentI wanted to write a poem about Sunday,
simply because it rhymed with Monday.
But then it was Tuesday,
I struggled all day,
and all Wednesday I waited
with breath abated,
and decided that Thursday
would be my verse day!
But no words came to mind,
I got really behind,
now it’s Sunday again
and I’ve lost my pen…
Teacher’s note: “To wait with bated breath” is a very common phrase. Bated is short for “abated”. It is never spelled “abaited”, because bait refers to hunting and trapping.
Who Are You by James Aitchison
Leave a commentHello, puppy, what’s your name?
Where did they find you?
Have you come to live at my place,
or are you passing through?
I got here first, I make the rules,
so set them in your head:
never ever eat my food,
and don’t sleep in my bed!
The Happy Haberdasher by James Aitchison
Leave a commentWhat’s a haberdasher?
Is it someone who runs fast?
No, it’s not, so let me tell you
about this shop that you walk past.
A haberdasher runs a shop
that sells haberdashery.
Things for sewing, things you won’t see
in a salmon hatchery.
Needles, threads, wool and yarn,
material by the metre —
that’s the stuff that Mum will buy
when haberdashers greet her.
Teacher’s note: In America, haberdashers sell men’s clothing!
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash
Dogs Love Socks by Jeanie Axton
Leave a commentFake food socks
we love to wear
but our doggy friends
think it’s not fair
The pizza socks
smell like fluff
The bacon socks
are really rough
The taco socks
dripping fake cheese
The hamburger socks
are another tease
The hot dog socks
look so yummy
The cupcake socks
the icings runny
But worst of all
and looking real
are the T Bone socks
that cause a drool
The dogs agree
this has to stop
let’s give food socks
A mighty chop
Could The Sky . . . ? by Marcus Ten Low
Leave a commentCould the sky flip upside-down?,
I sit up thinking, with a frown.
Could the sky do magic cartwheels,
Turning, as each small star reveals?
Could it crumple into nothing,
And leave us just the clouds, a-puffing?
Could it burn-up in the sun,
And would it harm us, every one?
Could the sky’s face start to weep,
And keep us falling into sleep,
And could the seas that roar and roar
This opalescent sky ignore?
It’s all a strange, strange universe,
That seems to do things in reverse!
This verse will only show the sky
As naked…to the naked eye.
Hey, Mr Sunshine by Graham Seal
Leave a commentHey, Mr Sunshine,
where are you today?
Rain is falling heavily,
the sky is dark and grey.
All the kids are stuck inside
with nowhere to play.
Hey, Mr Sunshine,
please come back one day.
Hey, Mr Sunshine,
welcome back today.
The sky is blue and clear and bright,
the rain has gone away.
Now the kids can run outside
to laugh and sing and play.
Thanks, Mr Sunshine,
sure beats yesterday!
Stop Raining Please! by James Aitchison
Leave a commentI can’t go out to play today,
it’s raining very hard.
And it rained the day before as well
and flooded my backyard.
My shoes are wet,
my socks are soaked,
my boots are green with mould —
I wonder how much water
this world of ours can hold?
Photo by Pixabay
Australian Children’s Poetry 