Christmas bushes red and blooming 
Lilac flowers in the passion-fruit vine 
Cicadas sing in choirs at morning 
Deep green silent Norfolk Pine 
Dragonfly and bee hum 
Paperbark and Ghost Gum 
Eucalyptus Christmas time. 

Cockatoos crown the tree-tops 
The sun is ruler of the high blue sky 
Gecko sleeps in the rocks at noontime 
Spider waits to catch the fly 
Tumbledown verandah 
Purple Jacaranda 
Eucalyptus Christmas time. 

Children splash beneath the sprinkler 
Watermelon laughter in the hot afternoon 
Food and drink on the cool white linen 
Sun waits up to greet the moon 
Festival occasion 
Family celebration 
Eucalyptus Christmas time 
Eucalyptus Christmas time. 
 

At first it was slates
with squeaky slate pencils
and tied-on rags
to wipe them clean
But the rags weren’t clean
Spat on too often
not often washed
they smelt vile

Pencils, lead pencils
came next
neatly whittled flat space
for your name
You turned the handle
on the big metal sharpener
importantly, out the front

Finally advanced to ink
Nibs and inkwells
The wells were sludgy
at the bottom
and at the top
sometimes inserted
by the class clown
the ends of some girl’s plait

If you had been extra good
you got to be the ink monitor
for the week
The majestic progress
to fountain pen
not a minute too soon.

A Perfect Pair

One partridge in a pear tree is a lonesome sight to see,

and though the bird can fly away he sits and stares at me.
He watches as I sing about the twelve fine days to come

but as the song continues, the sadder he becomes.

He twists his head from side to side, blinking small black eyes.

Then he chirps, ‘Don’t sing that song. It only makes me cry!’

He ruffles light brown feathers from his head down to his toes,

pruning each one carefully, tweeting as he goes.

Once he’s done he stands up straight and sighs a mournful sigh.

His beak begins to quiver as a tear forms in his eye.

He starts to tell a tale that’s full of misery and woe,

of sorrow and of heartbreak, as he paces to and fro.

‘You’ve no idea how hard it is to see the doves and hens

all kissing and canoodling. It seems to never end!

Then there are the calling birds, the geese and all the swans!

They prance and swim and lay their eggs and proudly sing that song.

And do not get me started on the lords and maids and ladies.

The pipers and the drummers wake up all the sleeping babies!’

I listen as he tells me of his wish for just one thing –

to find another partridge who will make his sad heart sing

I ask him to come closer, wipe away his tear and say,

‘No need to be alone for look who’s flown in from away.’

He turns his head to where I point, his eyes full of surprise.

His little heart now bursts with hope and to her side he flies.

He hops a little closer, pecks her gently with his beak.

She fluffs her wings and then she lays her head upon his cheek.

Together with their heads entwined, their future bright and fair.

No longer lonely but instead a perfect partridge pair!

Link to the song

We don't have a chimney,
So what will Santa do?
He can't come through the doors
Because Dad locks them too.

Do not worry, do not fret,
Christmas won't be tragic.
Santa always gets inside,
I think it must be magic! 

The grass is growing high as wheat,
While I write this little poem.
The weeds are high above my feet —
Should I stop and mow 'em?