The winter chill is here
I feel it on my ears
My hands like ice
Soft wool feels nice
My fleecy jacket keeps me toasty
My cheeks are growing rosy
I look like a pink teddy bear
I feel warm so I don’t care
Image created by Gemma Creegan
Category Archives: Poem of the Day
Mr Wiggle Worm by Toni Newell
Leave a commentUnderneath the Ficus
Lives Mr Wiggle worm
In the rich moist soil
He can wiggle and squirm.
Wiggle worm
Looked around
It was cool and cozy
Underground.
There was much
Work to do
Churning earth
To let air through.
Enriching soil
Whilst breaking down
Organic matter
In the ground.
Mixing nutrients
On his way
Enriching earth
With leaf decay.
Wiggle worm
Doesn’t have eyes
Can sense light and dark
With cells specialized.
He doesn’t have lungs
He doesn’t have legs
He doesn’t have teeth
But he can produce eggs.
Wiggle worm
Is long and thin
Needs to be moist
To breath through his skin.
He has five hearts
He has no ears
Birds, moles and beetles
Are amongst his fears.
Up to ten years
His lifespan can be
If he is housed
In captivity.
But in the wild
I’m sorry to say
It can be reduced
If he becomes prey.
Harsh weather can also
Effect his lifespan
If soil gets too cold
Which it often can.
Wiggle worm’s poop
Is like liquid gold
Full of nitrogen
Often mixed and sold.
He’s a natural recycler
And works very hard
Maintaining ecosystems
In his backyard.
Mr Wiggle Worm
Lives under my Ficus tree
He hides from all above
Trying to live and be free.
Image from Pixabay
The Disappearing Island by James Aitchison
Leave a commentA sandy island in the Gulf
beckons us to make landfall.
A picnic here is lots of fun
while flocks of seabirds call.
The waters slapping round the shore
look inviting in the sun,
but listen to the boatman
when he warns everyone:
“Just step into that gentle tide —
up to your knees will do —
and a hungry tiger shark
will bite you clean in two!”
Best leave before the sun goes down,
that’s when the tide will rise
and cover every inch of ground
and catch you by surprise.
Going, going, almost GONE! Sand Island off Karumba, Queensland.
Photo by Ginette Pestana
Everyone’s Waving In Winter by James Aitchison
Leave a commentA polar bear waved to me
and called a loud “hello”,
as he floated past eating fish
on a jolly big ice floe.
Penguins flapped their flippers,
a humpback slapped its tail,
and I waved back with all my might
as onward I did sail…
In response to the Winter Waves prompt
Winter Waves by Meg Mackey
Leave a commentWinter waves,
it’s icy fingers in gusting winds and shimmering rain.
It twists and hurtles,
comes splashing,
returning again and again
to direct its deliberate blast northwards
without any pause.
That cold intention tho,
is lost on our warm and tropical shores.
(In response to Winter Waves prompt)
“There once was a girl who ate chips” by Dannielle Viera
Leave a commentThere once was a girl who ate chips
and anything else near her lips.
She soon grew so wide
from the junk food inside
that she caused a full solar eclipse!
“Little Spiderman” by Toni Newell
Leave a commentFour little spidermen,
Climbing up the wall,
Who can climb the highest,
Without taking a fall.
“Rebellion – Punk Revival “– By Louise McCarthy
Leave a commentIt’s just a phase,
An episode,
A rebellious turn,
Part of the road.
It’s just a stage,
The youths are idle,
Unexpected –
You’ve lost the bridle,
Then you screech
“If I’ve told you once…”
The same old speech…
Like talking to the fence.
Suspended talk, mid litany –
You take a long, deep breath.
Then comes this weird epiphany,
And you storm off down the street!
Five hours later you reappear,
The family’s really missed you.
“We’re starving…” Yes – they make it clear,
Unplugging from their gadgets.
They tear away from cyberspace,
Reality’s for ancients.
But then they see you sitting there,
All calm – relaxed and quiet.
“Mum! What’s happened to your hair?
It really looks a riot!”
You deal a punk rock “I’m so cool” stare,
More striking than your monologue.
A flashback to those teenage years –
Rebellion seems a distant fog.
“Now listen…” And there’s not a sound,
Then the stylus hits the vinyl…
The record spins around and round,
Rebellion – punk revival.
“Birds Eye View” by Toni Newell
Leave a commentBirds Eye View
Sitting on a branch up high,
In the Serengeti plain,
I spot a giraffe and her calf,
Crossing the dry terrain.
As a bird of prey,
They’re of little interest to me,
However, the calf looks hilarious,
He’s as funny as funny can be.
Galloping with an earnest face,
Long hair straight in the air,
I haven’t ever seen that before,
So, I thought I just might share.
“Choosing Shoes” by Pat Simmons
Leave a commentChoosing Shoes
Gum boots when it’s raining
Sports shoes when I’m training
Sparkly shoes for dancing
Riding boots for prancing
Sandals for a summer’s day
High heeled shoes for dress up play
Then sadly comes that time of year
When Mum says, ‘Let’s go shopping dear.
Your feet keep growing, time to choose
A nice new pair of (yuk!) School Shoes.’
Australian Children’s Poetry 