Though pirates get by
with a patch on one eye
their lives out at sea can be grim.
No wonder they’re mean,
all the pirates I’ve seen
have clearly been missing a limb.
I now understand
all those hooks for a hand,
the clumping around on a peg.
To fit out their ships
for those plundering trips
must cost them an arm and a leg!
Tell me a tale of treasure untold,
buccaneers’ bounty, jewels and gold.
Spin me a yarn of a hazardous quest,
until it is ended the hero won’t rest.
Share stories of dragon, damsel and knight,
princesses rescued from a grave plight;
of monsters, aliens, mystery and magic,
adventurous, exciting, funny or tragic.
Whisk me to markets jostled by crowds.
Trek me up mountains shrouded in clouds.
Spin me through space at heart-stopping speed.
Chase me through tunnels –where do they lead?
Sail me across oceans so vast and deep,
I cannot help wonder what secrets they keep.
Lead me to forests where birds nest on high –
Wind through the trees is a whispering sigh.
Such silence and splendour fills me with awe,
inspires me to whisper, please show me more
of far distant places where I’ve not yet been.
Draw open the curtains upon the next scene.
As I travel abroad without leaving home,
I’m scientist, pirate, astronaut, gnome,
crook, cop or detective solving a crime,
anyone, anywhere, freefalling in time.
Thrill me, delight me, chill me, excite me,
amaze me, intrigue me, above all invite me
to enter a world where anything goes,
created for me in wonderful prose.
Words are my passport, ideas the key
To unlock my fancy and let it roam free.
I turn the first page to open the door
into magical Bookworld, its realms to explore.
* This poem appears in Charms, Volume Three, edited by Sally Odgers. Charms is a collection of stories, poems and illustrations by a range of contributors. It is also a fantasy novel in three volumes. For more information about this and other Prints Charming projects visit www.printscharmingbooks.com
I put off going to bed,
The cloud cover,
Keeps the heat in…
And the stillness
Is oppressive.
Robins, wrens, honey eaters,
Panted the day away,
In shaded canopy,
Their beaks open.
Too hot to complain.
I open up the house,
All the doors; windows.
Something might wander in…
But hopefully,
It will wander out.
Thrown wide,
It’s no longer a house.
It’s a shelter,
A secret place.
A bed in the forest.
Under the sheets,
I listen to the night’s music.
Muted waves break,
Crickets click, ruffled feathers soften.
And at last, the birds are asleep.
There’s a booger in my hanky, it’s been there for half an hour
It is fresh and it is green, but it tastes a little sour
I will hide it in my sock drawer if I ever take a shower
I wonder if my mother’s gonna mind
There’s a booger in my hanky and it’s been there all the day
It is icky and it’s sticky and it’s looking pretty grey
I think I’ll try to train it, and teach it how to stay
I wonder if my mother’s gonna mind
There’s a booger in my hanky and it’s been in there all week
It is probably worth a lot ’cause it’s almost an antique
If you really want to see it I can give you a quick peak
I wonder if my mother’s gonna mind
There’s a booger in my hanky, now it’s been in there a year
It’s as solid as a rock and it’s looking pretty clear
That the booger is a goner, but don’t you shed a tear
There’s plenty of other boogers I can find
I wonder if my mother’s gonna mind
I can
Banana bend
Licorice twist
Jelly wibble wobble.
See me
Caterpillar creep
Snake slither
Deer dash and dart.
I am
Rock steady
Tree tall
River rush and flow.
Love this
Body mine
Body strong
This moving marvel.
* First published in School Magazine.
In winter my feet get quite chilly
So I wear umpteen socks, I’m not silly
When the gas bills come in
They all go in the bin
And I burn them to boil up my billy
Have you woken up to find
you don’t know how you feel?
That’s how I felt when I woke up today.
I tried to find a word that would
express the way I felt
but there were not the words that would convey
the feelings I was feeling, for
it all felt so surreal,
a feeling like no other I have known.
I cannot find the words to tell you
how it is I felt.
I’ll have to make up new words of my own.
I felt flagisticatious,
all wimbillical inside.
Indubicartly grobble-poxed, was I.
Befuddulant and jingle-jacked,
quite micro-ballical,
which can’t have been too pleasing to the eye.
I felt so astro-numical,
anthortical in fact,
in a very catostrismic kind of way.
And that, my friend, just sums it up –
exactly how I felt –
the way I felt when I awoke today.
Today she brought a lizard’s tail
and dropped it at my feet.
and yesterday a mangled snail
was offered as a treat.
A present helps me when I’m flat.
It gives me such a lift
but not when it’s the family cat
delivering the gift.
It rustles, bustles in the breeze
I’m creeping, peeping round the couch
Nearer, nearer almost there
I pounce, but wait
Now it has me!
Let go, you sack of crinkly skin
Stop chasing me
Please stop
You win!
I’ve scraped the skin
From off my chin,
My arms and legs are grazed,
My elbow’s sprained,
My ankle’s maimed,
I’m feeling kind of dazed.
I’ve crunched my neck,
My knee’s a wreck,
My fingers curl like claws,
My dental work
Has gone berserk
And jammed up both my jaws.
My eyes are black,
My nose is red,
My lips are turning blue –
So tell me why
The teachers cry –
SPORT IS GOOD FOR YOU!
Australian Children’s Poetry 