March 21st was declared World Poetry Day by UNESCO in 1999. It celebrates the power of words. Connecting our kaleidoscope of languages and cultures throughout history, how will you participate? What might you do, think or read to commemorate this day of diverse verse?
Galloping through the bush, brumbies run
Led by the strong silver stallion
Glistening coats after rain
Pounding hooves flicking mud
Seven in the herd
A sight to see
Manes flying
Wild and
Free
Brumbies by Linda Davidson
Image by Pexels
I crunch on a leaf
that spiralled from a tree
that somersaulted down the street
that slept in a doorway
that heard the honks of traffic
that was swept away by a shopkeeper
that was picked up by a woman in a wheelchair
that was passed to a young man with pimples
that he dropped
at my feet
Leaf Litter by Michael Buckingham Gray
Photo of leaf. Taken by Michael Buckingham Gray
I like to go where it’s slow,
where silence never ends,
where ancient mountains
become my best friends.
Where eagles nest,
I like to sit and just be,
where land has no limits
and where I am free.
Where do I go? by James Aitchison
The view from Pugilists’ Hill, Flinders Ranges. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Today’s the day, our carnival.
We’ll race across the pool.
The sun is beating down on us
but the water will be cool.
I’m in my brand new swimming shorts.
I’ve got my goggles ready.
Imagine gold upon my chest!
My nerves are holding steady.
I line up at the starting blocks
with Ali, Sam and Tim.
I’m ready for the siren’s sound,
if only I could swim!
A Long Way to the End of the Pool by Rachael Koch
Image by Pexels
Counting the syllables in each line of a poem is a great exercise for finding and feeling its rhythm and pattern. Remember, rhyming is only one of many ways that can make writing poetic.
This MID-MONTH PROMPT calls for a NONET on any topic of your choosing. This nine-line poem begins with 9 syllables in the first line, finishing with 1 on the last line … or it could be the other way round, starting with 1 syllable and ending with 9.
We’d love to receive your examples!
Not a sound, not a ripple,
as we whisper our way
between sandstone walls —
ten metres high, they say.
Then it gets narrow,
two metres in places,
and on the stone,
are they fossil traces?
It’s a tight squeeze,
you can touch the rock —
but make sure it’s not hiding
a freshwater croc!
Yabbies and turtles,
and a big goanna,
you’ll see them all
in the Gulf Savannah.
Gorgeous! by James Aitchison
Teacher’s note: The Cobbold Gorge was formed 10,000 years ago. Several springs feed into the gorge, keeping the water level constant.
Far North Queensland’s Cobbold Gorge. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Look at these creatures from deep in the sea
with tentacles, scales and slippery skin.
Are they staring at me?
Observing our species, our children are mesmerised
as they swim and glide through a salt-water tide.
Do they want to eat me?
They’ve put on a show, so they like what we do
creating this space of connection.
It looks like they love to be watched!
Aquarium Staring by Tamara Seselja
Inspired by March Picture Prompt
AQUARIUM by Kaushani Mufti
The wide sea swells with muscular power:
surges under thundering clouds.
Waves
in chaos
rush and tower,
careless of steepness,
smash
in whirls of foam,
slam
on slabs of rock.
Until
tiring,
sighing.
Rays of sunlight
slice a shredded grey sky,
sparkling silver sequins twinkle
on her scaly skin,
and the ocean lies still.
Vast and deep is the mighty sea that roars.
Yet, at curving edges, surfers ride waves,
landing softly on sandy shores.
Sleeping under an afternoon haze,
the sea stretches out between headlands:
a salty green ocean
beneath the sky’s hot breath.
A toddler with his mother is paddling in the shallows,
where little ripples run up the beach now the storms are gone.
The Sea by Jeanette Swan
Image from Pixabay
Cockatoos eat with their left leg,
their right hangs on to their perch.
They gobble and chew so neatly
without a sideways lurch.
You’ll see them up on the fence,
having a tasty lunch,
feeding themselves an apple,
never missing a single crunch.
Hungry cockatoos by James Aitchison
Hungry cockatoos. Photo by Philip Webster
Australian Children’s Poetry 