We’ll run down swiftly to the beach
and jump into the sea,
where rolling waves will cool us down —
we’ll stay till half past three!
But when it’s time to pack and go,
you’ll hear us groaning then —
climbing up all those steps
will make us hot again!

We’ll run down swiftly to the beach
and jump into the sea,
where rolling waves will cool us down —
we’ll stay till half past three!
But when it’s time to pack and go,
you’ll hear us groaning then —
climbing up all those steps
will make us hot again!

I stare into the hollows
of his smiling, bony face
and I wonder how he looked
with all his other bits in place.
Was he beautiful or ugly?
Was he fat or was he lean?
Was he just a little weakling?
Was he built like a machine?
Did he have the smooth complexion
that belongs to movie stars?
Was his face a mass of pimples
or of scary-looking scars?
The skeleton says nothing
but I’m judging from his grin
that he’s rather glad he’s free
from all that muscle, flesh and skin.
A small object of fate
Sits on a leaf of green dew
Hidden in his smallness.
Little red and black creature
Crawling along endless stems
Paths that lead overboard
Crossing over lines with tiny feet
Pattering towards safety.
In a safe blanket of grass and daisies
Hunting for a crumb of food
Or a bed untrodden by feet.

Illustration by Gemma Creegan
It’s all the rage,
the latest thing,
artificial intelligence.
But I don’t care,
because for me
it hasn’t any relevance!
My intelligence
is very real,
and lives inside my brain.
It’s not artificial,
and that’s official,
and it works again and again!
One day I’m going to build a house
with cheery yellow candy.
I’ll put ice creams on the roof,
and fruit gums nice and handy.
Then I’ll add two cup cakes,
with lollypops galore,
liquorice allsorts in the corners,
and chocolates by the door.

Teacher’s note: This house can be found in the storybook corner of the Hunter Valley Gardens, Pokolbin.
As an expert in the making
flicking boogers is a skill
when Im needing more of them
I know where to refill.
Friends all want to join me
but its an individual sport
one thats learnt through practice
or as they say “self taught”.
Roses drip their dewy secrets
The air is sweet and perfumed
With jasmine, sage and lavender.
Clouds merge to form laughter
Birds sing for the love of Spring
Blades of grass reach for the sky.
I glimpse a fairy in a hedge
Her face glows like moon shine
Reflecting the lilies on the pond.

Illustration by Gemma Creegan
If a Thesaurus
came before us
would it claw us?
Or even gnaw us,
as soon as it saw us?
Not really.
A Thesaurus is a book
stuffed full of words,
so it would probably
just ignore us.
(As published in The Dirigible Balloon)
This emu is fine,
obeying the sign,
doing no more than forty.
To run any faster
could spell disaster
and would be very naughty.

Teacher’s note: This photo was captured near Wilsons Promontory where many emus roam in the wild.
Send me your ships, your schooners,
and my rocks and reefs will take them.
Send me some seven hundred,
and howling wrecks I will make them.
Give me stormy nights and surging tides,
give me captains who lack in skill,
and I will show you shipwrecks
that no other coastline will.

Teacher’s note: By day, the coast appears calm and safe. But Victoria’s treacherous, storm-tossed 130-kilometre Shipwreck Coast, from Cape Otway to Port Fairy, has claimed around 700 vessels.