School Lore
Every day shuffles answers –
no question likes to hurry.
Therefore animals talk freedom.
*******
Tall trees have a long way to blow.
In the park, birds sing for nothing.
Any road is a ribbon for writing on.
*******
Mermaids fly the art of oceans.
Every field-mouse has a nose
making tigers look dangerous.
*******
Most spiders like to spin and spin,
hence their days are tidy.
Though they turn corners at an angle,
they travel with their eyes open.
©Katherine Gallagher
I like to paint magpies
that I can see
when they’re warbling away
in our willow tree.
I like to paint my Platypus
and my favourite toys,
Trixie Tinder, Red Rocket
and the Rocket Boys.
I like to paint my family
especially my Mum
when she’s home from work
and my brother’s on his drum.
©Katherine Gallagher
The sunlight glints across the grass
Touched by frost to a white old age
Of sober tints that will not last.
Soon the mist and shadows will slowly fade
And winter’s cloak will drop again
For one last glimpse of summer’s glory
At the beginning of an autumn morning.
©
Margaret Pearce
Sing a song of autumn leaves
Dancing on a gentle breeze:
Twisting, turning, left and right,
Disappearing out of sight:
Some with partners, some alone,
Destinations quite unknown,
But once gathered in a heap.
Those left breathless fall asleep.
She works alone upon her screen
With Leyla on her lap
Both teaching kids and counselling
Her cat content to nap.
The teacher works for hours on end
For students one and all
She sets them work and talks to them
When on a conference call.
With Leyla purring on her knee
She works upon her screen
And counsels kids who need her help
When life at home is mean.
Her students do their best for her
They know their teacher’s worth,
Her diligence and loving care
The best teacher on earth.
So soon when they are back at school
And once again a team
The days when they all worked on line
Will just seem like a dream.
Teleconference for work from home and self quarantine in COVID-19 pandemic concept. Online meeting that involved different professions with hands on laptop.
FALLING LEAVES
When the autumn months are calling,
Leaves from up on high are falling.
Landing softly on the ground
Without a shudder or a sound.
But if I were a bug or bee
And if a leaf should land on me
Would I be hurt, or in a pickle?
Or would that leaf provide a tickle?
Through March and April and into May
Leaves are falling by the day.
Mother Nature’s voice has called,
The trees seem to be going bald.
In my backyard beneath the sky
Leaves of many colours lie.
Maple leaves and sycamores;
Gum leaves too: there’s leaves galore.
While the soil is far from hardened
I rake some leaves onto my garden,
Making many a compost heap,
Where all the worms and snails sleep.
So if you’re rolling up your sleeves
Please admire the falling leaves.
Pick one up from off the clover:
Go on and turn a new leaf over.
Australian Children’s Poetry 