I used to throw a Frisbee,
But it would never come back,
Billy Joe would make it worse,
The Frisbee he’d hijack.
One day I saw a programme,
About Aborigines,
There it was, the boomerang,
Thrown with so much ease.
The magic of the boomerang,
When thrown it comes back,
Saving time and energy,
Searching down some track.
It took a little time to learn,
But I’ve got it in the bag,
My boomerang is kind to me,
It returns, I shouldn’t brag.
Imagining a TARDIS by Celia Berrell
(Time And Relative Dimension In Space)
What a wonderful toy is the TARDIS.
Doctor Who’s little blue
police box.
It’s bigger inside.
So much stuff it can hide,
from a skate-park to
clean pairs of socks.
Owning a magical TARDIS,
do you think it’s a
secret we’d keep?
Or would that depend
on inviting some friends …
and whether we’d need any sleep?
With a stay-or-go-anywhere TARDIS,
there are infinite things
we could do.
It has so much appeal,
for a toy that’s not real …
let’s imagine instead that it’s true!
The physics of Doctor Who’s awesome time-travelling ship aren’t exactly science fiction: https://www.businessinsider.com.au/physics-of-the-doctor-who-tardis-box-2015-6?r=US&IR=T
The Slippery Slide
I’m the old slippery slide,
King of the playground,
All the kids slide down me,
As squeals and laughter sound.
Many things have been replaced,
However, I’m still there,
And lots of little bottoms,
Still slide down without a care.
Green Thumbed in the Garden –
Thinking of our poets in Victoria.
Keep Safe.
It’s only been a week,
Second time around,
Thought it might be easier,
But it wasn’t found.
Adrenaline has gone,
We’ve just settled in,
Now resigned to it,
And the discipline.
Life is so restricted,
Activities are few,
Going for a walk,
A little shopping too.
The rest of the time,
A prisoner at home,
But it’s not that bad,
If you are not alone.
No visitors allowed,
That is the decree,
And that’s okay,
If you’re with family.
It’s very hard for those,
Who do it on their own,
No one around them,
Sitting at home alone.
They too need support,
A little company,
And in these current times,
A little sympathy.
For those less fortunate,
Being on their own,
Let’s help them to survive,
And be there on the phone.
The Willie Wagtail is Australia’s best-loved and best-known fantail. And that tail wags constantly — side to side — as its owner scurries across the lawn seeking insects for a snack. Wagtails don’t mind us humans, but aggressively defend their own territories against feathered interlopers. You can tell the wagtail by its call that’s heard night and day; it sounds like “sweet-pretty-creature”.
Willie Wagtail
Sweet pretty creature,
sweet pretty creature,
that’s the sound of your call.
Sweet pretty creature,
sweet pretty creature,
the sweetest call of all.
Sweet pretty creature,
sweet pretty feature,
we love your wagging walk.
Sweet pretty creature,
sweet pretty creature,
if only you could talk.
Seasons?
Winter’s here,
Autumn’s gone,
Next we know,
Spring’s along.
Time just flies,
It’s hard to say,
Which season,
We’re in today.
Winter’s cold,
Frost or not,
Spring is wet
Summer’s hot.
It used to be,
Seasons defined,
But not today,
They seem entwined.
Australian Children’s Poetry 