Category Archives: Poem of the Day

Poem of the Day

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Tegan the Vegan

 

Tegan the vegan

Won’t eat meat

She says fauna are friends

Not food we should eat

If it runs or blows bubbles

Brays, baas or moos

It‘s not destined for dinner

Or handbags or shoes

 

Tegan the vegan

Won’t eat meat

She can’t stand the idea

That her food once had feet

She munches on mushrooms

Scoffs spinach and greens

Eats vegies galore

Gobbles all the good beans

 

Tegan the Vegan

Won’t eat meat

She moves to the rhythm

Of her own silver beet

And while it’s not understood

By all those she holds dear

Her tummy is full

And her conscience is clear

Sioban Timmer
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #45

poetry-prompt-45

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Super Swimmer

 

Sammy the seal loves to swim in the sea.

He eats fish for breakfast and eats fish for tea.

He doesn’t much mind all their bones and their scales,

For he swallows them whole from their heads to their tails.

Then once he is full he is ready to rest

And a rock in the sun is the spot he likes best.

 

When Sammy is swimming a shark may glide past.

And that’s time for Sammy to move very fast!

For Sammy is smart and has more than a hunch

That a shark thinks a seal makes a rather nice lunch!

Since sharks have sharp teeth like the points on a saw,

They’re clearly a threat that no seal can ignore.

 

If sometimes you find him asleep on a beach,

Make sure that you keep yourself out of his reach,

For if you should rouse him and give him a fright

He may be upset and get ready to fight.

So better by far that you give him no cause,

Since though without fists, he has very strong jaws!

 

Monty Edwards
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #43

poetry-prompt-43

Monty said: I liked the alliterative possibilities of Sammy the seal for the opening line of the poem, but soon realised why I had chosen Sammy and not Sally. Not only are there seals in the area quite close to where I live, but also an opportunity shop run by Good Samaritan Industries as “Good Sammy’s” with a seal featured in their logo!

 

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My Greens

 

There’s a broccoli in my wardrobe

and a cucumber by my bed.

Something green was on my pillow

but now it’s green goo on my head.

 

There are lettuce leaves by my mirror,

some snow peas in my drawer,

and I think I saw a brussel sprout

lurking behind my door.

 

I don’t know what they’re up to

or what any of this means.

But if I want my bedroom to myself

I’d better eat my greens.

 

Kristin Martin
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #45

poetry-prompt-45

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PERCY POSSUM

Percy Possum

swings his brush-tail,

leaps from roof to roof

on a goodnight-trail.

 

He hunts for insects,

a midnight feast –

if he finds some eggs,

he’ll really be pleased.

 

The night is quiet,

the stars are dim.

He wishes they’d shine

a bit brighter for him.

 

Katherine Gallagher
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #45

poetry-prompt-45

 

 

 

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What the Smoke Says

 

This smoke floats

With light airy whispers:

‘Marshmallows,

‘Roast potatoes,

‘Billy tea,

‘Fun by the sea.’

It points to the sweetest one

Points at me.

 

This smoke floats

Heavy and dark,

It billows and bellows:

‘Crisped leaves

‘And crimson sun

‘Embers are falling,

‘Fire is burning,

‘I’m your alarm,’

It points with the wind,

Says: ‘Time to flee.’

Jessica Nelson
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #44
poetry-prompt-44Jessica said: I live on a bush property, so smoke always brings to mind either campfires or bushfires. I based this poem on my thoughts about the different messages smoke can give us.

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Rose is red and Violet’s all blue

 

Rose loved painting,

Violet loved it too.

Rose painted with red,

Violet with blue.

 

They crept out of bed,

To paint in the night.

But Mum came in,

‘Aaaagh!’ And got such a fright.

 

‘Sorry Mummy,’ said Rose, all red.

‘Sorry Mummy,’ said Violet, all blue.

‘It’s okay, my little monsters,

‘I know what to do.’

 

Mum drew a big bath,

And plopped them both in.

Whooshed them round,

And into a spin.

 

The monsters spun round,

Splished and splashed.

Water whirled round,

And both colours clashed.

 

Now Violet wasn’t blue,

And Rose was not red.

‘Yippeeee!’ they cried,

‘We’re purple instead!’

 

Now Mum feeling faint,

Took out some more paint.

‘Perhaps some white,

Will fix them all right.’

 

The water whooshed round,

And down the sink.

‘Aaaagh!’ wailed mum,

‘My monsters are pink.’

 

Nanna came in,

with a towel so green.

She scrubbed while she dried,

Until they were clean.

 

Not purple or pink,

Or blue or red.

But finally all green,

And ready for bed.

Ken Williams
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #41

Prompt5

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Anything

 

With your hand in mine, you can do anything.

You can climb the stairs

You can cross the road

You can shuffle your feet through the soft warm sand to get to the edge of the sea.

 

With your hand in mine, I would do anything.

I would climb a mountain

I would build a road

I would swim all the oceans and rivers and lakes for you, my child

And for me.

James Redmayne

James said: This was one that I bounced around for a while after my daughter first learned to climb the stairs in our home. The poetry prompt triggered me to dig it out and rework it a little.

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That seal in New Zealand

 

That seal in New Zealand

Decided to stay

All the others seals

they went away

 

Time to migrate

And swim a long lap

That seal in New Zealand

Took a long nap

 

That seal in New Zealand

Marina full of sun

Thought an extended stay

Was better fun

 

No sharing of fish

All wharf space she owns

That seal in New Zealand

Has found a new home

 

She’s now very famous

On the news worldwide

That seal in New Zealand

Takes it all in her stride

 

Smiling and grunting

A bit of a flap

That seal in New Zealand

Got a very good rap

 

She rolled for the camera

300 kilos of lard

A grin for the lens

Isn’t too hard

 

Named “Owha” by locals

She has stayed a year

Missing her friends

No! Not a tear

 

That seal in New Zealand

Intends to stay

Loves her new country

In the sun she will lay

Jeanie Axton
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #43

poetry-prompt-43

Jeanie said: I saw on the news a story about a seal who has stayed on at The Auckland’s Marina in New Zealand instead of migrating. I thought it a fun topic for a Seal poem.

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Stop, rain, stop!

 

Stop, rain, stop!

Not another drop!

My friends are here. They’ve come to play.

We want to be outdoors today.

Stop, rain, stop!

 

Stop, rain, stop!

Not another drop!

We do not want our washing wet,

But you make sure that’s what we get.

Stop, rain, stop!

 

Stop, rain, stop!

Not another drop!

You’ve been around for several hours:

Look how you’re drowning all the flowers!

Stop, rain, stop!

 

Stop, rain, stop!

Not another drop!

Go help the farmer grow his wheat

And give his stock green grass to eat.

Stop, rain, stop!

 

Drip . . . . . drip . . . . . . . . . . . . plop!

At last, the final drop!

Now we’ll get a flower display.

Now the washing’s on its way.

Now we can go out to play!

 

Monty Edwards
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #41

poetry-prompt-41

Monty says: The poem sets out to give voice to the dissatisfaction and frustration we often feel  when wet weather disrupts our plans – a common experience for both children and adults.

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I’d rather be a pirate

 

‘I don’t want to be a princess,’

The Princess Carlie said.

‘I’ve no wish to grow my hair out long;

I’ll use a rope instead.

I’ve no need to use these glassware shoes;

I’d rather wear my clogs,

And don’t even get me started

On what’s wrong with kissing frogs.

If you really need a royal,

You might try Gary Brown,

He’d enjoy a regal job

Complete with jewelled crown.

I’d rather be a pirate,

Sail a thousand seas;

Swing gracefully in rigging

Like an acrobat on trapeze.

I’d rather have adventure

Than an adoring crowd,

So you’ll find me on the sea-ways,

Belching very loud.

Jessica Nelson
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #42

Prompt5Jessica said: I wrote this poem for my daughter, who for now likes both pirates and princesses.