The bells ring
(cling, clang)
Feet dance
(tippity tap)
Voices sing
(hip hooray)
Hands clap
(slap, slap)
The streets cheer:
‘The war is over!’
My curtains draw
(swish, swash)
My clock clicks
(tick, tock)
My tears slip
(drip, drop)
My heart aches
(crash-break)
My brother won’t come home.
The war is over.
The picture in the history book
Caused me to take a second look.
Some boys were scaling up a wall;
It looked to me someone might fall!
The wall had windows: large ones too,
As schools built long ago can do.
These give the students lots of light
And so protect their precious sight.
The walls composed of solid brick,
Had helped these boys perform their trick,
With bricks protruding left and right,
Which hands could grip and hold on tight,
While feet found rest on bricks below,
Until again they’d upward go.
I could not tell how high they dared,
But no boy looked especially scared.
Do schools allow such tricks today?
Expect to hear a swift “No way!”
Since if one child were ever harmed
Then parents would all be alarmed.
The school would feature in the news,
Including irate parents’ views.
These days we’re much more risk averse,
Some think that’s better, others worse.
Let’s make a promise
(during the pandemic)
We promise we’ll unite
When danger’s in the air,
We’ll always do our part
And take that extra care.
We’ll do what Aussies do,
For others we’ll prepare,
We will not be selfish —
We’ll keep our nation fair.
So let us not forget,
We Aussies give our best,
When we face any threat
That puts us to the test.
Body Bacteria
Flaky, floaty flecks of skin
make spacecraft for our body’s bugs.
They’ll colonise most anything
from where we step to who we hug.
My bugs are different from yours.
With many species grown and mixed
to make our unique signatures.
It seems our bugs are fairly fixed.
So, could bugs be our new ID?
Like fingerprints we can compare?
Forensic science might declare
“Your bugs told us that YOU were there!”
WHEN YOU TOUCH a surface, you leave behind fingerprints—distinctive swirling patterns of oils that reveal your identity. You might also deposit traces of DNA, which can also be used to identify you. And you leave microbes. You are constantly bleeding microbes into your surroundings, and whenever you touch something, bacteria hop across from your skin.
It’s increasingly clear that everyone has a unique community of microbes—or microbiome—living on their bodies. We share species and strains but the exact roll call varies from person to person. “If you take a collection of people, their microbes will look very different but their genomes will look mostly the same,” says Curtis Huttenhower from the Harvard School of Public Health. So, could the DNA of these tiny variable residents also reveal our identity, just like fingerprints or our own DNA?
Roxy Redmond, the cavoodle
My name’s Roxy,
I’m a cavoodle.
A cavoodle, I said,
Not a poodle!
I love to frisk
And have lots of fun.
And right through your house
I love to run!
I love you so,
My hair I won’t shed,
And that is why I can
Sleep on your bed!
Nanna Rap
Let me tell you ‘bout my nanna. She is 83.
She’s an octogenarian VIP.
Nanna likes to relax living life to the max.
So, lend me your ears and I’ll give you the facts.
Go Nanna, Go Nanna, Go Nanna, Go Nanna.
My Nanna plays bingo at the hall every Sunday,
still believing that she’ll win big ONE DAY.
On a Monday, she pops to the op-shop
for a gossip with the girls. They natter non-stop
’bout the times when they jigged to the BEBOP.
Go Nanna, Go Nanna, Go Nanna, Go Nanna.
Tuesday. See my nanna ride into town
on a scooter. No sign of her slowing down.
Every Wednesday my nanna does hip-hop;
Not bad for a biddy with a hip-op.
Then she hangs with her friends at the CHIP SHOP.
Go Nanna, Go Nanna, Go Nanna, Go Nanna.
Thursday and the weekend’s approaching,
but my nanna won’t go slow coaching.
She does surfing like back in her heyday.
Then Friday is making apple-pie day.
No one bakes it like she bakes it, NO WAY!
Go Nanna, Go Nanna, Go Nanna, Go Nanna.
Saturday has to be my nanna’s best day
Cos she likes to take it easy; have a REST DAY.
Now we’re comin’ to the end of my nanna rap.
Time for nanna just to have her little nanna nap.
Every nanna has to have a little nanna nap.
Go Nanna, Go Nanna, Go Nanna, Go Nanna,
Go Nanna, Go Nanna…shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
And that’s a wrap.
Four little spidermen,
Climbing up the wall,
Who can climb the highest,
Without taking a fall.
Bippity bip bop bip bop bap –
Scootin’ along to a new jazz scat.
Bippity bop bip bop bip bop,
No more walkin’ to the shop.
Hippity hop hip hip hooray!
I got a scooter for my birthday…
Yeah.
The Story of Donald McDuddle
Have you heard of Donald McDuddle
Who stepped into a deep puddle?
His new shoes — bad luck! —
Were lost in the muck,
So Donald grew feet like a duck!
Australian Children’s Poetry 