Trim

Leave a comment

Trim

I’m a black cat

A special cat

A ship’s cat.

I was born on the Reliance in 1799.

Of all my mother’s kittens

I was the one most fine.

I’m a black cat

A special cat

A ship’s cat.

I have four snow-white paws

And a white star on my chest.

Of all the cats on board this ship

The sailors like me best.

I’m a black cat

A special cat

A ship’s cat.

When it’s time for dinner

I don’t eat with other cats.

I sit at table with the men.

I don’t care for rats.

I’m a black cat

A special cat

A ship’s cat.

I have a trusty friend

And Matthew Flinders is his name.

He has called me Trim.

I think together we’ll find fame.

I’m a black cat

A special cat

A ship’s cat.

Matthew is a clever man

He’s sailed all round this land.

He’s given it a name

And that’s Australia – how grand.

Perhaps you have a cat at home

Is it as fine as me?

Would it like to come aboard

And sail upon the sea?

With a black cat

A special cat

A ship’s cat.

Pat Simmons

Storykeepers

Leave a comment

Australia Day

The ACP site recognises the unique status of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Peoples as the First Australians.
We acknowledge the special relationship that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people have with their traditional lands and waters,
as well as their unique history and diverse culture and customs.

BOORI MONTY PRYOR is an Indigenous writer and storyteller.

Coming in for Landing

Leave a comment

A Leisurely Bike Ride

Leave a comment

A Leisurely Bike Ride

A leisurely bike ride along the bush track,

Nothing too strenuous – 2ks then back.

Nothing competitive; dawdling along,

Enjoying the scenery and humming a song.

 

A leisurely bike ride – me on my own,

No need to hurry, 2ks then home.

4ks in total, pedalling with ease,

One cloud of pollen watch out I may sneeze.

 

The bell birds say “tink” as I ride through their patch.

Then past an echidna having a scratch.

Butterflies easily keep up the pace.

Dragonflies hover; their wings look like lace.

 

The ride is delightful – it’s time to turn back,

But just wait a minute – what’s that on the track?

A kangaroo lazily hopping ahead.

Is it a grey or is it a red? I’ll just go and see…

 

Faster and faster I quadruple my cadence

Just scraping through a gap in a farm fence.

The kangaroo is bounding in front at great speed,

But I am the one who will soon take the lead.

 

I crank up the gears and decrease my resistance.

By crouching down low, in less time more distance.

With speed and endurance I’ve almost succeeded,

In passing a grey kangaroo unpreceded.

 

The tail wind is strong; I am zooming along,

But all of a sudden something goes wrong.

The kangaroo disappears off the bush track,

Into the scrub and doesn’t hop back.

 

I skid to a halt – my heart is arrhythmic.

I cannot believe it – oh what a mean trick!

And as the dust settles, I stand all alone,

Except for a sign that says – “20ks home.”

 

Louise McCarthy

 

 

 

 

 

Fire

Leave a comment

Fire! (published in Anna the Goanna 2000)

Jill McDougall

 

Old Kangaroo and his mate Cockatoo

were travelling south

where the icy winds blew.

As night came around,

they found some flat ground

in the shade of a cave

where the river gums grew.

 

“It’s freezing down here,”

grumbled Old Kangaroo.

“But I’ll make a good fire

to warm us right through.

I’ve never seen trees

As enormous as these,

I’m sure I can find us a big log or two.”

 

So into the bush

Hopped Old Kangaroo,

Straight to the place

Where the biggest trees grew.

He was back in a while

With a humungous pile,

“This is great,” said his mate, “cos I’m shivering too.”

 

Then Old Kangaroo and his mate Cockatoo

fetched small sticks and big sticks

and old sticks and new.

They even took leaves

from the bushes and trees.

“This will soon warm our bones,” laughed the triumphant two.

 

As the fire came alive,

the old fellows threw

more branches, more logs,

and a giant tree or two.

Way up on high

they could see the sparks fly.

“I’m feeling much warmer,” said Old Kangaroo.

 

Then down from the ranges,

a little breeze blew,

and it whistled and whined

through the trees as it grew.

Soon everywhere

in the hot smoky air,

sparks from the roaring fire floated and flew.

 

“Now I’m … ouch! … much too hot,

complained Old Kangaroo,

“Well my feathers are melting,”

cried poor Cockatoo.

And as a fresh breeze

carried sparks to the trees,

the two silly friends were beginning to stew.

 

“Bushfire!” At last cried one of the two,

“Everything’s burning!

What are we to do?”

But try as they might,

it was too late to fight,

for feathers and fur were burning up too.

 

Yes, feathers and fur were burning up too –

Nothing was saved

as the fire roared through.

All the birds and the bees,

all the bushes and trees,

all the creatures that lived there,

had perished there too.

 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

 

Many years later, a young kangaroo,

was travelling south

with his mate Cockatoo.

They stopped at the scene

where the fire had been,

and decided to camp

where the river gums grew.

 

“I’m shaking with cold,”

said one of the two.

“Let’s have a fire

to warm us right through.

I’ll get some sticks,

and a few little bits.

We don’t need too much –

just a small fire will do.”

 

Jill McDougall

 

A Goat Afloat

Leave a comment

A Goat Afloat

I wear a silver collar, I’m a rather special goat.

Hooves firmly planted on the ground, but once I was afloat.

‘A goat afloat?’ I hear you say.

It’s true. Ask Captain Cook.

Twice I’ve sailed around the world.

I’d like to write a book

 

Called

Memoirs of my life at sea

Jottings by a goat

The good the bad the ugly facts

Of life upon a boat.

 

Well, all right, ships,

Let’s get it right

Named

Dolphin and Endeavour

And with respect, I must say this,

I really hope I never set hoof again on either one.

Three years was long enough.

Giving milk for all that time quite frankly dears was tough.

 

Smelly sheep and smelly hens, smelly cattle too,

Smelly cats and smelly dogs

And very smelly crew.

Snow and storms and slippery decks, fresh grass in short supply.

No other goats for company to help the time pass by.

 

But now I’m home and quite well known

(My story’s in the press)

Enjoying my retirement, free from stormy seas and stress.

 

I wear a silver collar, I’m a rather special goat.

Hooves firmly planted on the ground, but once I was afloat.

Pat Simmons

 

 

 

 

 

Lying on the Beach

Leave a comment

Lying on the Beach

 

One day I saw a bottle that was lying on the sand.

I asked: “Why are you lying?” Then I grabbed it with my hand.

The bottle made no answer and it gave a glassy stare:

It clearly felt it had a right to spend time lying there.

I saw a drip form on its lip and thought it was a tear,

Which seemed to say: “Just go away and leave me lying here.”

But I’d been taught that lying was a serious sort of sin,

So straight away, without delay, the liar went in the bin!

 

Monty Edwards

The Unhappy Astronaut

Leave a comment

The Unhappy Astronaut

 

The astronaut was angry. He was clearly not amused.

He spooned his soup from pot to bowl, but seemed a bit confused.

Though landing near the launch pad, he had fallen in a puddle!

This left his spacesuit shrunken and his maps an awful muddle.

Then, when he told the others who’d been in a different craft,

They thought his “trip” was quite a joke and all of them just laughed.

 

Monty Edwards

 

Monty says: “I had written the substance of this poem with a moon landing, but research confirmed the water on the moon doesn’t form puddles as we know them, so decided I had better bring the setting down to earth.”

Jazz

Leave a comment

Jazz

I looked down at the dishwasher

And there I saw

A furry head with her tongue

In the door

She was licking away

And before I knew

All the dishes

Looked brand new

The plates were sparkling

Knives and forks shining

Mans best friend

Full from dining

She sat there contented

Licking her feet

Her eyes asked the question

What’s next to eat?

Jeanie Axton

RIP Jazz 2005-2017

A Small Dilemma

Leave a comment