Don’t Be Silly

Freddy told Matthew and Matthew told Pete.

“Did you know that cockroaches hear through their feet?”

Don’t be silly Matthew. You say such silly things.

Everybody knows that roaches hear through their wings.

Andrew told Percy and Percy told Mick.

“Beetles sell medicine to people who are sick.”

“Don’t be silly Andrew. How goofy can you be.

Everybody knows you can’t afford a beetle’s fee.”

Molly told Sally and Sally told Mabel.

“Old men sometimes leave their teeth on the table.”

Don’t be silly Molly. It really isn’t true.

Everybody knows they hold their teeth in with glue.

Stephen told Richard and Richard told Frank

“The teacher’s got a great white shark in a tank.”

Don’t be silly Stephen you really are a fool.

Everybody knows he keeps the shark in his pool.

Fred told Billy and Billy told Dan.

“My next door neighbour is really superman.”

Don’t be silly Freddy. You must have had a dream.

Everybody knows your next door neighbour’s Wolverine.

Mary told Margaret and Margaret told Flo.

“These words will make me famous I want you all to know.”

Don’t be silly Mary. Did you leave your brain at home?

Everybody knows that this is just a silly poem.

© Warren Cox   2013

My Nana’s Bag

My Nana’s arrival is an exciting sight

As she carries a bag packed extremely tight.

She carries her coat and umbrella furled

And the most exciting bag in the world.

She stands us in line for our hugs and kisses

And tells us how much she enjoys her visits.

After that she opens her bulging bag wide,

And out comes what she has packed inside.

First a chocolate cake for afternoon tea,

Liquorice and jelly beans for baby and me.

Then two jumpers, one blue and one pink,

One to wash and one to wear she says with a wink.

Out come some beads, a ball and two bats,

A doll and a pram and two calico cats.

Six pairs of crawlers made from old bedspreads,

And knitted striped beanies for everyone’s heads.

There’s a hammer and nails to mend the side fence,

Dad says that’s a gift with plenty of sense.

Out comes a scooter and a skippy rope too,

And a most beautiful set of drums, brand new.

A bright crocheted rug to go on the bed,

Be lovely and warm, my mother said.

After the crayons, paints and a big picture book,

Nanna stopped delving so I had a good look.

Five peppermints and a half knitted sock remained

Nanna’s wonderful bag was empty and drained.

Nanna stood us in line for more hugs and kisses

And we all said how much we loved her visits.

My Nanna took her coat and her umbrella furled,

And left with the emptiest bag in the world.

My Nanna’s departure was a very sad sight,

But she’ll be back to baby-sit us Saturday night.

© Margaret Pearce

P.O. Box 253,

Belgrave, 3160

Victoria

Email: mpearceau@gmail.com

Note: Feel free to send your poem for children to dibates@outlook.com  

Alternatively, you are welcome to send an article related to children’s poem and/or any news about children’s poetry, including links to websites. Di Bates

Here is an article about an overseas book publishing company looking for poetry manuscripts (not for children). http://www.authorspublish.com/measure-open-to-manuscript-submissions/

The Australian Poetry Journal has relaunched with a new editor, new ‘magazine’ format and a dedicated website. Michael Sharkey has been appointed editor and Stuart Geddes is responsible for the layout of the new journal, which was previously published in a trade paperback format. http://www.australianpoetry.org/bulletin/category/competitions

Time out

The sun is slowly sinking,

slipping gently to the sea.

I put a stop to thinking,

set my thoughts and feelings free,

and take the time to marvel

that I occupy a place

on board a giant marble

spinning silently through space.

© Jenny Erlanger

Attack of the Giant Dinosaur  

I didn’t really mean,

To do what I have done,

I trod on a dinosaur’s tail

And now I’m on the run.

He’s about fourteen metres long

And he’s breathing down my neck,

My heart is purely throbbing

And my nerves are all a wreck.

He’s just about on top of me

His teeth about to crunch,

Oh where do you hide from a dinosaur

When you’re about to be his lunch.

“Stop playing with that lizard Tommy

And come on in for tea,”

“Ah you’d spoil any game mum

For a little boy like me.”

© John Williams

Sea Sparkle

(Noctiluca scintillans, Thirroul Beach, August 2014)

After the rain a dull red tide

muddied the angry sea,

and the sky hung low and grey.

No swimming today.

I moped back up to the house to read

and hours had slipped away

when dad called out to me

that lights were on in the sea.

We walked out in the clear-rinsed dark

and down to watch the waves

breaking there in bright

displays of blue-green light.

It had to be magic. Water like fire

flaring into the dark!

Was it a sea-change?—

a thing so ghostly and strange.

We ran towards the breaking waves

and saw our footprints spark

as if we’d gone to play

along the Milky Way.

I cupped my hands and scooped up stars

then let them fall away

and lightning flashed and played

with every move I made.

I was in the universe,

with stars around my feet,

a giant hurling light

at random in the night.

Galaxies were swirling by

tumbling time and space

to sand-grains in my mind.

I’d left the world behind.

© Kate O’Neil

The Echidna

An echidna passed across a track

heading towards a special snack.

A naturalist muttered,‘What a turn!

About this creature, I’ve got to learn.’

He kneeled to take a closer look

the echidna swung with strong right hook.

And it was such a heavy clout

it nearly knocked the watcher out.

The echidna curled into a prickly ball

snarling, ‘I don’t like you at all.’

The naturalist cried and mused upon

what it was that he’d done wrong.

He only wanted to see first hand

the weirdest creature in the land.

The echidna uncurled and stalked away

grumbling at his ruined day.

And idiots too dumb to know

you always let echidnas go –

About their business digging holes

and eating ants from salad bowls.

Or snuffling around a great big mound

Where tasty termites are always found.

To spare echnida watchers’ pain,

the moral of this tale is plain.

Always remember it’s very rude

to keep echidnas from their food.

© M. Pearce

email: mpearceau@gmail.com

My Gran’s Place

My Gran’s place is an unchanging one

And I always visit when horridly glum.

She doesn’t go in for changing trends

Of fashion, hairdo’s or marital friends.

Everything’s the same, as long as I’ve known

The clock in the hall, the old fashioned phone.

She opens her door with a welcoming smile

And says ‘Hello love, come in for a while.’

Mum’s moved to a flat, small but not cosy,

Door to door concrete, and neighbours nosy.

No bike riding, skateboarding or making a noise

Pets not allowed, and they hate little boys.

Sometimes I go to stay with Dad

but after a while I start to feel mad.

A fresh new start, my stepmother said

And threw everything out, even my bed.

The kitchen’s never messy with cooking,

Everything’s tidy and modern looking.

The back verandah is now a study,

With nowhere to leave anything muddy.

Gran’s furniture’s shabby, and I like it a lot,

A smoking wood stove, and soup in the pot.

The broken down stool in my favourite nook

The bookshelf that has my very first book.

An expensive video game sits at home,

But it doesn’t compensate for nights alone.

Dad takes me fishing and for drives galore

(He never acted like this before!)

My Gran’s world is warm and friendly,

Nothing there is ever trendy.

I love to visit when feeling blue,

And pretend that my world’s unchanging too.

A version of this published one use only HOUSE OF SPROUTS 1988 (O.U.P) A version of this used in POSTIVE WORDS May 2008 issue, one use only

© Margaret Pearce

P.O. Box 253,

BELGRAVE, 3160

Australia

email mpearceau@gmail.com

Portrait of a Puddle

I can tell you about the weather.

Am I growing or shrinking?

I can show you how a paper boat floats

and be a mirror for your smiling face.

I can be a drink for a thirsty bird,

or a short slurp for a cat on the prowl.

I can annoy new shoes,

but splashing gum boots love me.

I can be a short stay hostel

for tadpoles or mozzie larvae.

I can be temporary and tempting.

I have possibilities and potential.

I am a puddle.

© Pat Simmons

The Echidna

An echidna passed across a track

heading towards a special snack.

A naturalist muttered,‘What a turn!

About this creature, I’ve got to learn.’

He kneeled to take a closer look

the echidna swung with strong right hook.

And it was such a heavy clout

it nearly knocked the watcher out.

The echidna curled into a prickly ball

snarling, ‘I don’t like you at all.’

The naturalist cried and mused upon

what it was that he’d done wrong.

He only wanted to see first hand

the weirdest creature in the land.

The echidna uncurled and stalked away

grumbling at his ruined day.

And idiots too dumb to know

you always let echidnas go –

About their business digging holes

and eating ants from salad bowls.

Or snuffling around a great big mound

Where tasty termites are always found.

To spare echnida watchers’ pain,

the moral of this tale is plain.

Always remember it’s very rude

to keep echidnas from their food.

© M. Pearce

mpearceau@gmail.com