No is a magical word.
It has power.
No means I am in control.
I don’t have to be a people pleaser.
It’s good to say no.
But don’t overuse it.
Or you’ll end up all alone.
Use no wisely.
No is one of the first words you learn.
It’s mightier than two letters.
Don’t throw it around just anywhere.
No used at the right time gives you a happy heart.
Prawns,
floating commas in
the tidal way of things,
eyes bulging the full stop
as the net drops.
We complain
sweet morsels are
a pain to peel,
much like meaning in
conversation over dinner.
Just don’t forget
to take the rubbish out.
Dead prawns like tide and time
wait only for
the exclamation mark.
My mother’s voice was loud and clear:
No use pretending not to hear!
I knew the words that soon would come.
They always left me feeling glum.
“No, no, no!
I said you may not go.
Unless you clear up all your mess
You will not hear me answer ‘Yes’.
Now pick those clothes up off the floor
And put them in their proper drawer.
Then, all your toys must be away
And after that, yes, go and play.”
Mum’s tone of voice left me no choice,
But task once done, meant play and fun.
Monty says: “Despite some changes in parenting styles over the years, I suspect many children (and parents) would still be familiar with a rule of this kind and its benefits.”
There’s an elephant hiding in the fridge?
How can you be so sure?
There are footprints in the margarine
and eggshells on the floor.
How did an elephant manage
to get himself inserted?
It must have been a treat to see
the skill that he exerted.
Its elementary, my friend,
he slid inside with ease.
He clearly used the margarine
as lubricating grease.
If clouds were beds then I would sleep
upon a cloud that’s soft and deep.
A cumulus cloud, that’s its name,
though as a name it’s rather lame
because it doesn’t make you think
of fluffy clouds in which you’d sink
into their white caressing sheets,
nor how you’d lie and dream of treats
or winning that important game,
so, bed-cloud is a better name.
If clouds were cars then I would race
a wispy cloud, high up near space.
A cirrus cloud is what they say-
that doesn’t seem a place to stay
behind the wheel and speed around
a track that’s high up off the ground.
I want a simple name that shows
a cloud that goes and goes and goes,
a cloud that’s fast and fun to use
so, car-cloud is the name I choose.
If clouds were homes then mine would be
one stretching far as you can see.
A stratus cloud is what it’s called,
but that name doesn’t say it’s sprawled
across the sky- a wide, flat field,
where there’d be ample space to build
a house, with rooms for everyone,
a garden where we’d play and run,
and even an enormous shed,
so, I call those home-clouds instead.
(Previously published in Orbit (The School Magazine), Issue 9, October 2016.)
Take away all of those long beans,
throw away broccoli too.
I’m quite unable to like greens.
Ditto for anything blue!
Eggplant and aubergine, no, no!
Roasted nor boiled nor fried.
Veggies of all kinds can go, go,
and any food I haven’t tried!
Nothing that’s fruity or cheesy,
no soup, no pasta, no rice.
Stewing and baking can’t please me,
eggy things really aren’t nice.
seafood if it’s from the sea.
And better not give me a lolly!
Never present me with curry,
cornbread, rye, barley or wheat,
but Mother I’d like you to hurry,
I’m starving and I want to eat!
Alys said: I couldn’t resist having a go at a rhyming poem for all the fussy eaters. As far as writing technique goes, I write wherever and whenever I get a good idea. I always carry a notebook and love reading poetry of all types.
The Bradbury Brothers Big Top
Travelled round from town to town
With all the big attractions
Tigers, tightropes and a clown
To keep the patrons interested
They had to keep it new
So they brought a snake and elephant
And bearded lady too
But the Strongman pulled a hammie
(He exerted too much force)
And the showgirl broke her leg
When falling from her dancing horse
The Bradbury Brothers panicked
The tent was full of angry hicks
They would have to get the elephant
To do some magic tricks
Card tricks are elementary
And quite easy to debunk
This trick must be amazing
(And completed with a trunk!)
They set up eight big ostrich eggs
With care upon the mat
And gave the giant pachyderm
A wizard wand and hat
Then to the crowd’s great wonder
Each egg just sank away
Though it was not a magic elephant
(but a starving snake that day)
The only proof of what occurred
For the trick had gone so well
Was a smiling snake contented
Burping out the old egg shells.
How do you doodle?
Leafy-shapes or people?
Zigzag sharp
or swirly soft.
Spirals, squares or circles?
Why do we doodle?
Feeling tense or troubled?
Trying not to
go to sleep.
Puzzled, bored or muddled?
Doodling while listening
prevents our mind from wandering.
It helps to pen
a drawing-hook.
But NOT in someone else’s book!
Celia said: What’s the point of doodling? Well it turns out that, rather than being a distraction, it can help us focus! So go ahead – use your super-doodle power. (My favourites are curls and swirls.)
I find travelling a mystery,
‘specially if I fall asleep.
First I was there, now I am here.
How can that be?
All it takes is time passing –
plus a bus, a tram, a train,
a boat, a car, a plane.
Then I am where I wasn’t before.
It’s a riddle I hope never
to solve. Even more than
travelling from city to bush,
bush to sea: I like the mystery.
Australian Children’s Poetry 