The Catch of the Evening
When the gully breeze bustled through the gums
skimming the heat from the day
we bowled out of the house
and set up stumps under the blue gum.
As always, the catches were what mattered.
Mum’s was the first.
She glanced up from yanking a thistle out of the hardened pitch
and plucked the ball from the air.
Jack caught me out on the full
ball clasped tight against his chest
his whoops and air-punches claiming more skill than he displayed.
Dad didn’t even get a look in
with his collection of one-hand-one-bounces
but I caught him mid-air with a spectacular leap from atop the slide.
Then, as the mosquitos herded us indoors,
I turned to grab the stumps and saw the uncontested winner.
Our blue gum. It had caught the moon
and was holding it triumphantly
in the crook of a branch.
by Kristin Martin
Wormy Work
Earthworms don’t have bony bits
and so they’re called invertebrates.
There’s billions living in the soil
that burrow, stretch, contract and coil.
Creating holes within soil’s layer
can mix it up and add some air
which helps break-down organic waste
and drain the rain in record haste.
Organic matter, we conclude
provides the worms with all their food.
Consuming soil is what they do.
Excreting lots of earthworm poo.
These squiggly clumps of mud have passed
through worm’s insides. They’re called a cast.
Those casts make soil a better place
so plants grow at a faster pace.
Without the worms, the soil would not
stay very clean and start to rot.
The earthworms all have key careers
as eco-system engineers.
Celia Berrell
Yesterday
I was a golden dragon
The kiss of grasses brushed my ankles
And then I rose into the sky
Where I cavorted at first
Then drifted
brushing the clouds,
a wondrous lilting shape that those below
beheld with awe.
Golden and crimson I lapped the world
like a god commanding
everything
and everyone
all things revolved around me
I owned the day
Shattered it with my beauty
And my gigantic roar.
Today
yesterday was a dream
and now I am but a mere child
my mother standing over me
with her many demands
I must obey.
Dianne Bates
A Girl’s Head
(after the poem, ‘A Boy’s Head’ by Miroslav Holub)
In it there is a dream
that was started
before she was born,
and there is a globe
with hemispheres
which shall be happy.
There is her own spacecraft,
a chosen dress
and pictures of her friends.
There are shining rings
and a maze of mirrors.
There is a diary
for surprise occasions.
There is a horse springing hooves
across the sky.
There is a sea
that tides and swells
and cannot be mapped.
There is untold hope
in that no equation exactly
fits a head.
Katherine Gallagher
(from Poetry Street 3 (Sale & Orme, 1991),
On Monday I was part of teaching ‘Bush Tucker’ cooking to a group of young Indigenous students. We made wattleseed and choc chip cookies and bush tomato scones. This week is National Reconciliatiom Week and I thought to repost this poem from January teachers may like to read to their class.
Link to a National Reconciliation site
https://www.reconciliation.org.au/national-reconciliation-week/get-involved/#tour-schools
Link to two recipes
https://www.outbackchef.com.au/recipes/wattle-seed-choc-chip-cookies/
https://www.sbs.com.au/food/recipes/bush-tomato-akudjura-scones
A few tips: remember to balance the taste between the wattle seed and choc chips in the cookies and use a tbsp of bush tomato seasoning for the scones. We found native jam locally in a specialist shop which tasted great with the scones.
Enjoy
Jeanie
Dreams
I wish my warm and cosy dreams
would stay inside my head
Instead of floating off for good
when I get out of bed.
I’d like to put them in a box,
all those I want to keep,
then choose the one I want at night
before I go to sleep.
Jenny Erlanger
Improving the Alphabet
Take pity on poor letter C:
It always follows A and B.
When Aussies write their alphabets,
Then third’s the place it always gets.
It hardly seems that this is fair
That C is always sitting there,
Behind the letters A and B,
But never leads, don’t you agree?
Forgive my words if I am blunt,
But I think C should be in front.
I’ve had enough of A-B-C:
Let’s have a change to C-A-B
Now C-A-B’s a proper word,
But A-B-C is quite absurd.
Then after CAB change DEF to FED
No nonsense now: real words instead!
Monty Edwards
Encounter
They met at the back door
He was going out
She was coming in
Bemused, enchanted
They stood face to face
Eye to eye
She was charmed by
His long fluttering eyelashes
Then she took a peck
We rushed to sweep him up
Before she reached his eye
Only eight months old
Though already walking
Without boots
Who was he to stand
Between a chook and her beloved
Cat food?
12 May 2018
Virginia Lowe
Grandpa’s farm
My Grandpa rang this morning.
He’s just bought a farm, he said
and so I’ve started dreaming
of the fun that lies ahead.
I see myself with bottles
helping feed the baby lambs,
I’m saddling up the ponies,
catching yabbies in the dams.
I glimpse a pretty orchard
filled with trees for me to climb –
the apples smell delicious
so it must be picking time.
I hear a rooster crowing
as it struts amongst the chooks
near a cosy little cottage
like the ones in picture books…
But now the vision’s fading
thanks to what I’ve just been told.
My dreams of country living
I may have to put on hold.
I won’t be catching yabbies,
won’t be riding through the scrub.
My Grandpa’s little farm is…
just some worms inside a tub!
Jenny Erlanger
Australian Children’s Poetry 