A boy sees a dead meat pie, And underpants flying in the sky. A football squashed by an ox, And a pair of stinky sox.
A girl sees a soft sunrise, And dappled light before her eyes. Sparkling dewfall overnight, And boys — girls are always right.
I see a mouse, an elephant and three people playing cards,
if you turn it around, to shake those coloured shards.
And with light at one end, diluting the edge,
it seeps through to the middle, like spilling down from a ledge.
Then if you put your nose nearly touching the middle,
it looks back at you with a grin, like a colourful riddle.
Sharp fragments spilled over squares and even shadows seen.
Why, it’s the shiny jewels from a crown …
belonging to a Queen.
Poem in response to “Kaleidoscope” Prompt
Wanting to be a fly on a wall in order to see what will befall, might not work; might be unwise, since flies have all got compound eyes.
They’re quick to see if anything moves; three-sixty degrees in all their views, but images make a mosaic design where nothing seems to stay in line.
And since they fail the focus test, whatever they see is fuzzy at best!
Inspired by Kaleidoscope prompt and image of a HOUSEFLY COMPOUND EYE from the nikonsmallworld photograpy competition
Inspired by Kaleidoscope prompt
walkin’ on rainbows
in my new shoes
in mocking love
I hum the blues
replete with lipped
fantastical ideas –
unicorns, gods
and supernatural fears
bursting from my brains,
and mixing with my love
and rains and clouds
in the skies above
Australian Children’s Poetry 