Why do kangaroos cross the road?
To get to the other side!
But ’roos don’t know their highway code
and some of them have died.
When travelling through Aussie bush,
best keep your eyes peeled wide.
Watch for signs and please don’t rush –
especially ’round dawn and dusk –
as that’s the time when ’roos might hide
along a lonely roadside.
Roo Road Rules by Celia Berrell
Artwork: THONGS CROCS AND FLIPFLOPS by Ella Rousseau
Where to put the pot?
Under the bed
or on your head?
Where to put the pot?
..
Where to put the pot?
Behind the door
or on the floor?
Where to put the pot?
…
Where to put the pot?
I haven’t a clue,
what can I do?
I haven’t got a pot!
This poem is completely potty! by James Aitchison
Image from Pixabay
Underneath the Ficus
Lives Mr Wiggle worm
In the rich moist soil
He can wiggle and squirm.
Wiggle worm
Looked around
It was cool and cozy
Underground.
There was much
Work to do
Churning earth
To let air through.
Enriching soil
Whilst breaking down
Organic matter
In the ground.
Mixing nutrients
On his way
Enriching earth
With leaf decay.
Wiggle worm
Doesn’t have eyes
Can sense light and dark
With cells specialized.
He doesn’t have lungs
He doesn’t have legs
He doesn’t have teeth
But he can produce eggs.
Wiggle worm
Is long and thin
Needs to be moist
To breath through his skin.
He has five hearts
He has no ears
Birds, moles and beetles
Are amongst his fears.
Up to ten years
His lifespan can be
If he is housed
In captivity.
But in the wild
I’m sorry to say
It can be reduced
If he becomes prey.
Harsh weather can also
Effect his lifespan
If soil gets too cold
Which it often can.
Wiggle worm’s poop
Is like liquid gold
Full of nitrogen
Often mixed and sold.
He’s a natural recycler
And works very hard
Maintaining ecosystems
In his backyard.
Mr Wiggle Worm
Lives under my Ficus tree
He hides from all above
Trying to live and be free.
Image from Pixabay
Billy Joe was very angry
And he had lots to say
About Archer’s poor behaviour
Happened almost every day.
‘You get us into trouble
I always take the blame
Trying to protect you
And taking on the shame.’
‘I’m sorry’ Archer barked
‘It’s just that I’m so young
I need some stimulation
And I need to have some fun’.
‘That’s all very well for you
Do you ever consider me
I constantly look after you
Appreciation I never see.
I think you’re very selfish
If you’re really my best friend
You’ll have to make an effort
Put bad behaviour to an end’.
‘Well I can only try
But there is no guarantee
That I can do what you ask
For my spirit it runs free.
I want to be your best friend
And behave accordingly
I’ll do my very, very best
You just wait and see’.
One week had passed
And all was going fine
Archer had behaved
Which was a good sign.
Billy Joe so happy
He could hardly bark
And Archer, angelic
Didn’t leave his mark.
‘There you see’ barked Archer
‘I told you I would try
I think I have succeeded
Bad behaviour say goodbye’.
Billy Joe was sceptical
But he had to admit
That Archer had improved
He should get some credit.
Now Billy Joe and Archer
Will be friends for life
The young lad now behaving
Not causing any strife.
Poor Billy Joe by Toni Newell
Image from Pixabay
There are games and pranks and jokes and larks.
There are funny looks and odd remarks,
comical lines and witty asides.
It’s always good to see the funny side.
A giggle, a snicker, a hoot, a guffaw –
these are the sounds we enjoy and applaud.
We fall about laughing; we roll in the aisle.
We double up, chortle, snigger and smile.
So, here’s to laughter; here’s to fun,
to witticisms, gags, jests and puns.
When things look grey and not too bright,
we can always look for the funny side.
World Laughter Day by Pauline Cleary
Image from Pixabay
Dressed in PJays and ready for bed;
We’ve cleaned our teeth – or so they said.
Excited whispers and cheeky looks;
Tiptoe down the hall – some carrying books.
As the door closes, the giggles explode
Like someone pressed the chuckling mode.
There’s stories to tell; eruptions of laughter;
Dreams being told of happily ever after.
Dancing around and talking about boys;
Playing pop music replaces playing with toys.
Trying on new outfits while swinging hips;
Iphone messages and trending clips.
Friendships formed and memories made;
Thinking they’re adults as childhood fades.
Giggles of joy and chatter that’s hearty;
There’s no sleep tonight at the Pyjama Party!
Pyjama Party by Linda Davidson
Image from Pixabay
May is the end of the cyclone season and last month of Autumn. Let’s make it a time to celebrate Culture, Travel and a love of Storytelling. I wonder what your story will be.
Send your poetic inspirations to Linda Davidson:
ozchildrenspoetry@gmail.com
Date prompts include:
Picture Prompt:
Artwork: Thongs, Crocs and Flip Flops by Ella Rousseau
What is a poem?
It’s words from the heart,
with rhythm and rhyme,
with an end and a start.
What’s in a poem?
That’s all up to you.
People or places
or things that you do.
All poems grow
from a thought or a theme –
an idea or feeling
that flows like a stream.
Reading or hearing
a poem’s like song.
The words are the music.
Join in. Sing along.
Poems are fun.
Sort of playing with words.
Like …
Let’s all grow feathers
and fly with the birds.
Let’s all be cows
and play football in herds.
There are all sorts of poems
with all sorts of sound
with all sorts of meanings.
You’ll find them around.
Search them online.
Check the library shelf.
Look in a bookstore –
or write one yourself!
I can’t write a poem!
Now, how do you know?
Why don’t you try it?
Just give it a go.
Maybe …
Write about breakfast.
A story at first.
Like …
How you kept eating
until
BANG!
You burst.
Then write it in rhyme.
Just a few lines at first
Don’t try to be best
or believe it’s the worst.
Enjoy!
Write your poem
then read it aloud.
Share it with others.
You did it!
Be proud.
Read lots and write lots.
Have poetry fun
For you …
or your friends …
or perhaps …
everyone!
A Bit About Poems by P J Rodriquez
Image by Klimkin from Pixabay
Bendy Wendy the contortionist
could tie herself in knots:
not just one or two knots,
but lots and lots and lots!
Until she got so twisted,
like a piece of rope,
and no one could undo her,
they all just gave up hope.
But one winter’s morning
Wendy caught a cold,
she sneezed and sneezed so hard,
her body just unrolled.
Bendy Wendy by James Aitchison
Image from Pexels
They left this land to go to war.
Our treasured young women and men.
With fear and doubt within their hearts
of whether they’d return again.
And those of us who stay behind
look anxiously beyond that day
with hope and love for their return.
In spirit, we will light their way.
Lighting the Way by Celia Berrell
Painting: LIGHTING THE WAY by Sharon Davson
Australian Children’s Poetry 