Acrostic poems
Acrostics make me wary
’Cause they set too high a goal.
Restrictive rules are scary
Once they choose to take control.
So though I can supply one,
Thanks to books that feature these,
I’m not prepared to try one
’Cause I lack the expertise.
Rusty
Resting on the window sill
Under the curtains
Sleeping all day
Talking in cat language
Yawning at humans
Autumn
After summer, the leaves of the claret ash change colour;
Upgraded are the efforts of last spring.
Temerariously, the fairies of autumn tint each leaf: rouge, tangerine, golden.
Ultimately a masterpiece, resplendent!
Merrily a gust of wind arrives with a chill, the tree shivers,
Not remembering to hold on to its marvellous cloak.
Australian Children’s Poetry 