Great Grannie’s birthday gift
Great Grannie has a letter
from a star who’s never met her
and who wishes her the very, very best.
It’s really quite uncanny
that she wrote to our Great Nannie
but I know Great Nannie’s feeling pretty blessed.
We’re amazed (and who could blame us)
that an idol who’s so famous
was prepared to take this break from her routine.
And although I feel no malice,
I am just a little jealous
that Great Grannie’s got a letter from the queen.
Spring Has Sprung
Spring has sprung,
Nests are made,
Vibrant colours,
Are on parade.
Birds are singing,
Their mating song,
Perfumed breeze,
Is swept along.
New growth,
Fragrant walks,
Grass growing,
On sidewalks.
Winter’s cold,
Now gone away,
The sun is warm,
A beautiful day.
Days are longer,
Lizard ‘Blue Tongue’,
Out of hibernation,
Spring has sprung.
Spring cycle
When winter leaves
Leaves grow again,
Again the buds of spring
Spring into life,
Life takes on a new meaning,
Meaning of course it’s spring.
Spring, when winter leaves
Leaves grow again,
Again the world is new,
New — and freshly scented,
Scented with flowers and hope,
Hope that trouble, like winter, leaves.
Is Fake News Monkey-business?
Hurried
conclusions
and being
sensational.
Sometimes,
fake news
is skewing
our rationale.
No more
slow-plodding
on things
that are boring.
The dash
to get printed
or famously best,
means stunning
results might
have lied on
their tests.
Then doors,
opened hastily,
start
a calamity,
causing
confusion,
profusion
and mess!
SPRING
The birds that graced my garden through Winter’s cold
Now, melodically, spend their time
Calling for a mate among their kind
Or inspecting nest sites new and old.
Thus, has Spring’s renewal unfurled
In my small corner of the world.
**********
Margaret Brazzale
A Street? Of Many Names
Walking down a street,
It occurred to me,
Why was it called a Street?
The question bothered me.
So many different names,
For a thoroughfare,
Roads, Groves and Avenues,
Were examples to share.
Boulevards and Terraces,
The Drive and The Place,
Different names for much the same,
A carriageway or space.
A Court, Close and Cul-de-sac
Meaning, no through road,
Highway, Freeway, Motorway,
My mind’s in overload.
Esplanade and the Bend,
Parade and also Cove,
Heights and the Muse,
Of words a treasure trove.
The Crescent, Way and Alley,
Let’s not forget the Lane,
I’m sure I’ve missed a few,
I find this quite insane.
So many different words,
In essence mean the same,
Each word takes you somewhere,
But by a different name.
A moorhen busies herself,
rocks this way and that
on a wave-washed nest.
Swans float in late afternoon chill,
shadows lengthen,
chestnut buds swell.
Forsythia trembles the breeze –
pastel-green willows barely move
dipping branch-tips into the lake.
Every year I wait for this –
first flowers, trees leafing
on sculpted branches,
reflecting in the water
their steadfast
cascades of green.
©Katherine Gallagher
Spoon Villages
Walking around my suburb,
I noticed we’d increased today,
In several streets there were villages,
Of spoon people on display.
Villages made by children,
Welcomed us all to view,
Some carried an invitation,
To add a spoon or two.
I thought it was a great idea,
A community on the verge,
Where there were no restrictions,
And visitors they did urge.
Spoons were brightly dressed,
Standing together as one,
I’m sure that all the children,
In creating the village had fun.
Helping children to cope,
Inspiring normality,
Embracing imagination,
Dealing with Covid reality.
The doctors and the nurses
Are constantly on call
To fight against this deadly thing
They’re heroes one and all.
The police and ambos working hard
To keep us safe and well
Are heroes too, they do their job
Despite this living Hell.
The check-out chicks and packers too
Contribute to the cause
By toiling still at this hard time
We offer our applause.
The people staying safe at home
And doing what they must
To keep apart and exercise
Obey and hope and trust.
We watch the heaps of videos
Of jokes and songs of hope
That people make to stay in touch
These heroes help us cope.
Thank God for Zoom and FaceTime
We see our kids and friends
When we’re allowed some virtual hugs
Until the nightmare ends!
This worldwide plight has shown to us
That heroes there abound
Who’ll find a cure and beat this bug
To make us safe and sound.
So, I’m a hero too, you know
By being true to me.
I stay inside and bide my time
Until we all are free.
Australian Children’s Poetry 