There’s a possum on my roof
and he’s not eating cake
He is stomping up and down
keeping me awake
There’s a possum on my roof
learning the highland fling
He is happily enjoying it
but it’s not my sort of thing
There a possum on my roof
tapping out a beat
He finds it pretty handy
having thumbs on both his feet
There’s a possum on my roof
I wish he would go home
Up to his branch in the tree
and leave me quietly alone
It isn’t quite a beaver, though it has a beaver’s tail,
A freshwater-living mammal, much smaller than a whale.
It’s something like an otter with body dressed in fur.
Its bill and feet are duck-like but it has a poisonous spur.
It burrows into riverbanks to lay its eggs therein.
It swims around in waters while having not one fin.
If you come across it, I urge you not to scream.
It wouldn’t ever harm you. It’s just a monotreme.
Its name can be quite tricky, but you’ll learn it without fuss.
So try:
Or –
Or – nith – or
Ornithorhynchus,
You might call it the platypus.
‘Wakey-wakey, Platypus –
time to have your tea.’
Mummy prodded Platypus
quite impatiently.
‘Pumpkin, please not pumpkin,’
was Platypus’s plea.
‘You know how food that’s orange
does not agree with me.
I want purple periwinkles,
pickled, for my tea.’
And if I must have veggies
I’ll eat a frozen pea.
Purple-coloured jellybeans
with tiny arms and legs
will prod and poke a hole in
their marble-sized white egg.
Once hatched, they’ll grow-up hairy
and have a leathery beak.
So are they some new kind of bird
whose wings became antique?
No, no. It’s not a birdy thing.
Then could it be lizard?
No. Fur won’t grow on reptiles …
unless tricked by a wizard!
At first they’re bald as pumpkins
and lap their mother’s milk.
But four months-old, a platypus
has fur like soft thick silk.
inspired by:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K5Y2h5zjpWU
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.
Australian Children’s Poetry 