Category Archives: Australian children’s poetry

‘Europa’s Secrets’ by Celia Berrell

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Europa’s Secrets by Celia Berrell

 

There’s hope Europa has a sea

where living things could really be

because this moon of Jupiter

has lots of solid ice water.

 

The pictures of Europa show

a crusty surface white as snow

with many lines and ridges mixed

like ice sheets that have cracked and fixed.

 

As Jupiter’s great gravity

distorts Europa’s cavity

that energy and friction heats

and melts some water underneath.

 

We think this frozen water layer

could make a sea that’s hiding there.

So just below that crusty shell

it’s possible some microbes dwell.

 

Or what if it turns out to hold

some animals both weird and bold

that roam Europa’s chilly sea.

True aliens to you and me!

 

First published in Scientriffic (March 2011)

Reproduced with permission of CSIRO

www.doublehelix.csiro.au 

Discovering life exists in places beyond Earth – like Jupiter’s icy moon Europa – could be a reality in our lifetime.  Thinking about it makes my imagination run wild!  What will these creatures be like?

‘Sunflowers’ by Stephanie Boase

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  • Sunflowers

Two little seeds

In one big pot.

I tend your needs,

And water at lot.

 

I wait and watch.

I’m happy to spy

Two little shoots

Emerge, by and by.

 

A leaf or two,

And now there’s three!

It doesn’t take long 

Before your up to my knee.

 

Standing up tall

You reach for the sun.

Large leaves spreading,

Two grow together as one.

 

Like twins you stand

Now past my waist.

You look so grand,

As you grow with haste.

 

Buds are forming,

I’m excited to see!

I wonder how big 

Your faces will be.

 

‘Sweet Dreams’ by Louise McCarthy

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Sweet Dreams

Starry night, a quarter moon.

Owls and frogs recite a tune.

Listen, listen…

What do they say?

Sweet dreams, sweet dreams…

Sweet dreams they pray.

By Louise McCarthy

‘Shape Cake’ by Louise McCarthy

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‘Pat’s Cafe’’ by Chris Owen

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Pat’s Café

Have you heard about this restaurant? They call it Pat’s Café,

It’s famous for its specialties like ‘Dungball of the Day’,

The punters flock from far afield to try the bolognaise,

Made from the finest cow manure and slurry mayonnaise.

 

They do a lovely paddock pie (the critics all agree),

That’s cooked from fresh ingredients they grow organically,

And for the connoisseur there’s much to make them lick their lips,

Like cowpat flavoured fizzy-pop with battered dung and chips,

 

But the top dish on the menu simply has to be a scoop,

Of dung ice-cream and sprinkles with a giant squirt of poop.

Yes, Pat’s Café gets rave reviews from diners in the know,

There’s nowhere else that dung beetles with taste would rather go.

Chris Owen 2018

‘Marti Dreams’ by J R McRae

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‘Autumn Elegy’ by Monty Edwards

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Autumn Elegy

Autumn leaves come tumbling down:

Orange, yellow, shades of brown;

Sun-dried, shaken, lost their grip:

Sailing breeze-borne like a ship;

Tossing, tacking, left and right:

Unpredictable their flight;

Watch them wander down the street, 

Where in huddled heaps they meet;

Left behind their mother tree:

Weeping still as each floats free.

Monty Edwards

‘Pirate Pussy’ by Ron Marsh

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PIRATE PUSSY

There was a pirate pussy cat 

Who sailed the Spanish Main,

His ship it wore a pirate flag 

In hail,or sun or rain.

And when he caught a galleon 

As buccaneers will do,

He took up all the gems and gold 

And cast away the crew.

 

Then when he sailed back into port,

With his ill-gotten prize,

He threw a great big party 

with cakes and sweets and pies.

 

This pirate’s name was Blacky Patch,

He had white feet and tail to match.

He ruled his crew,as hard as nails,

And did not spare the nine ‘o’ tails. 

 

One day the King’s fine sailing ships 

Caught up with Blackie Patch.

The fired their guns while on the run,

And Blackie’s were no match.

His ship went down and all were drowned,

The pirates were dispatched.

Ron Marsh 

Ron is 79 years old and has taken up writing poetry

 

‘TWELVE THOUSAND C.C.’S’ by Margaret Pearce

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TWELVE THOUSAND C.C.’S

 

He was a macho man

With speed man dreams.

He darned his leathers

With barbed wire seams.

 

He parted his beard

On the outside lane

And cleaned his teeth

With the sprocket chain

 

He lusted for the bike

Of his speed man dreams.

Double carbarettors

And twelve thousand c.c’s

 

He’d pay without woe 

He needed his butt

On a bike with go

On an engine with gut.

 

For that ultimate thrill

With death defying skill

Double carbarettors

And twelve thousand c.c.’s

 

Busted and ageing,

The biker kept raging

The oil kept seeping

And his life blood leaking.

 

‘I possessed the machine’

Gasped the macho man

‘With the speedy routine.

‘I don’t give a damn

 

My bike and I

With death defying skill

Will ride hell’s roads

For that ultimate thrill.’

(c)

M Pearce

‘When the Parrot was Silent’by by J.R.Poulter

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When the Parrot was Silent.  by J.R.Poulter 

 

“Twitter, twitter”, said the birds, 

Perched outside upon a ledge,

“The wizard’s conjuring with words, 

Some are wise and some absurd.

Tell us parrot what you’ve heard?”

 

Parrot, on his perch all day,

Hadn’t very much to say

But was noisy anyhow.

Parrot made a frightful row!

Showed off to his birdie friends.

Till the wizard hit wits END!

 

Parrot through the cage bars peaked,

Saw the wizard’s wand go, “TWEAK!”

Opened wide his beak to SQUAWK,

Found he could no longer talk!

Moral is, when wizards speak,

Wise birds seek but to be taught,

Say not a word unless it’s sought…