When did we start
having so much stuff?
To go without
would be cold and tough.
Two-and-a-half
million years ago
a few stone tools
was all we could show.
Three hundred thousand
years before now
we’d arrows and spears
and fire knowhow.
By seventy thousand
an Ice Age had stressed
those poor chilly humans
and made them get dressed!
Image from Pixabay
See those trees
up to their knees
in the lake.
Branches bare,
no leaves to spare,
no boat’s wake
disturbs the sunken forest,
beneath a blazing sun,
so far from everyone,
the waters are at rest.
Lake Pamamaroo, Menindee. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Teacher’s note: Nine mainly shallow lakes make up the Menindee Lakes on the Darling River in New South Wales. Menindee was the first town established on the Darling, on the lands of the Barkindji people. The nearest major city is Broken Hill.
These mussels come from the sea,
they’re not in a leg or an arm.
They’re very fresh and tasty,
and their shells are part of their charm.
Dig into the the bowl for a feast,
and eat a dozen or two;
the only muscles you’ll need
are the ones that help you chew.
Time’s a kind of mystery,
not made of anything.
We treat it like a measurement.
A time-line piece of string.
But NOW-time can be different,
depending where things are.
We look back over many years
when gazing at a star.
The speed time passes, tick & tock
depends on where things go.
If gravity’s extremely strong
that tick & tock go slow.
Since Einstein showed us Spacetime,
THEN & THERE were surely wed.
And WHEN & WHERE got married too …
and share a Spacetime bed!
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If you’re a fish and you get sick,
who do you go and see?
The Doctopus will help you —
he’s your undersea GP.
He’s qualified to treat
watery infections,
and because he has eight hands,
he’ll give you eight injections.
From sore sardines and sneezing sharks
to tonsil-troubled tuna,
the Doctopus will fix you —
you’ll feel much better sooner.
Photo from Stockcake
The mighty ramparts rise above the plain,
where once the plains were sea.
And you might think how harsh it looks,
yet beautiful it seems to me.
A world of red soil, stone and silence,
of ancient legends told ’round fires,
of peace and fascination
to my tired city eyes.
Flinders Ranges, South Australia. Photo by Ginette Pestana
When will water this way come
and fill this ancient creek?
There’s been no rain hereabouts
for many a long, long week.
When drought breaks the creek will rush,
a torrent raging by,
but for now it’s turned to dust —
no clouds have blessed the sky.
While in the east, it’s flooding,
and towns and farms are lost.
Can these extremes of climate stop,
or has a line been crossed?
Dry creek bed, Flinders Ranges. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Australian Children’s Poetry 