Pushing up through cold earth.
Determined. Never failing.
The green leaves set the stage.
Presenting – the grand unveiling.
Blushing petals open shyly,
Revealing more to the sun.
Frilly ruff thrown back in triumph.
Yellow face. Spring’s begun.
Category Archives: Australian children’s poetry
Wagtails 1 2 3 by Graham Seal
Leave a commentOne willie wagtail sang a sweet song,
he was joined by another
before very long.
Two willie wagtails built a snug nest
with feathers and flowers
and leaves softly pressed.
Three willie wagtails perched in a tree,
mummy and daddy
and baby makes three.
Spring by Toni Newell
Leave a commentThe temperature is rising
There’s music in the air
From birds singing loudly
Their mating calls do fair.
Bare trees now blossom
As bulbs come back to life
The sweet call of Spring
The drake looks for his wife.
Colours surrounds us
On breeze a sweet scent rides
It’s full of new beginnings
It’s Spring where hope resides.
Big Bird Emu by Celia Berrell
Leave a commentBig Bird Emu cannot fly.
Got long legs and big brown eyes;
slender neck and smiley beak;
stringy feathers, mega feet.
Big Bird Emu sits on nest.
Eight whole weeks, no food no rest;
nearly faint from heat and thirst;
wants those chicks to hatch out first.
Shading babies, outstretched wings,
eating grass and insect things.
Eighteen months ‘til they’re full-grown,
big enough, safe on their own.
Big Bird Emu dedicated.
Caring love for little babies.
Get too close might make him mad,
‘cos he’s their Big Bird Emu DAD!
https://kids.britannica.com/kids/article/emu/390741
https://www.bushheritage.org.au/species/emu
My Hidden House by James Aitchison
Leave a commentI have a hidden house
in a garden full of flowers,
and I love to sit in silence
and gaze at it for hours.
The little house was built
in the Gold Rush so I’m told,
but for me it is a treasure
worth more than any gold.
Ballarat, Creswick and Clunes district during the Victorian Gold Rush.
Nice To Be A Snail by Toni Newell
Leave a commentIt would be nice to be a snail,
Carry my house upon my back
And leave a silver trail,
Never needing to unpack.
Out for dinner every day
No kitchen in my house
‘Cause it’s very small inside
Can’t even fit a mouse.
I’d always be close to home
Never far away
And my house I’d fully own
No mortgages to pay.
Cleaning would be a dream
Over in a blink
Giving me much more time
To play and even think.
It would be nice to be a snail
Carry my house upon my back
Never be far from home
And safe when the sky is black.
Two new poems from Michael Buckingham Gray
Leave a commentblack puddle
blower vac
by the bowser
at the petrol station
slick on the surface –
all the water
in the world
unable to wash
it out
droning
driving
black dirt
out onto the road
in front of a white
truck
carrying a load
The Antarctic Beech by James Aitchison
Leave a commentI wandered in a forest deep
and found this ancient tree.
Two thousand years it’s grown here;
lots more it well might see.
They said it’s called a Beech,
born in forests long ago,
before Antarctica
had turned to ice and snow.
Teacher’s note: Lamington and Springbrook National Parks are located on the Scenic Rim of the Gold Coast hinterland. Two hundred and twenty-five million years ago, the continents of South America, Africa, Australia and Antarctica, along with India, New Zealand, Madagascar and Arabia made up a single land mass called Gondwana. When Gondwana broke up 120 million years ago, Australia remained attached to Antarctica. Seventy million years ago, when Antarctica was covered with rainforests, Australia separated and moved north. This Antarctic Beech has survived to this day. Sadly much of the ancient rainforest was lost to logging in the 19th Century.
The Beach That Squeaks by James Aitchison
Leave a commentStep onto its glistening sand
and hear the squeaky sound.
Then find the granite boulders,
big and red and round.
What a beach to visit,
listen to it talk,
simply take your shoes offand take a little walk.
The Sleepy Koala by James Aitchison
Leave a commentOh boy, what a day,
I’m ready for a doze.
I’m full of yummy gum leaves
from my ears to my toes.
A little snooze would be nice,
It’s what koalas do.
So please don’t wake me up
Until half past two.
Australian Children’s Poetry 