Tag Archives: Australian children’s poetry

Fantastic Feathers by Celia Berrell

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Compared to fur or human hair

feathers are a smart affair.

As down, their fluffy unzipped form

of under-feathers, keeps birds warm.

 

But barbs and barbules, shaft and quill

hide clues to how birds fly with skill.

Their contour feathers, zipped and long

make wafting wings so light yet strong.

 

From dowdy mums to vivid males

with crazy crests and splendid tails;

for camouflage or bright display

feathers have lots of roles to play.

 

First published in Double Helix (September 2015)
Reproduced with permission of CSIRO
www.doublehelix.csiro.au

 

Polliwogs and pobblebonks by Jenny Erlanger

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I could be quite mistaken

but I’m feeling pretty sure

that polliwog’s a word

you’ve never come across before.

And pobblebonk’s another,

with a funny kind of sound,

a word I’m also certain

you have never seen around.

They’re not a type of candy

or variety of fish.

They’re not exotic items

in some oriental dish.

They don’t have beaks or feathers

and they’re not a breed of dog.

A polliwog’s a tadpole

and a pobblebonk’s a frog.

Poem of the Day

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Blue and red

by Sophie Masson

 

All the day long, the bluebird sings,

High in the trees, high on the wing.

 

All the day long, the red cow eats,

Moos and eats, moos and eats.

 

All the night long, the blue dog howls,

Keeps up the neighbours with his sad yowls.

 

All the night long, the red fox prowls,

Watch out you farmers, lock up your fowls!

 

 

Higgledy Piggledy by Allan Cropper

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HIGGLEDY PIGGLEDY

 by Allan Cropper

 

It’s a topsy turvy kind of day

My head is in a spin

What’s down is up, what’s up is down

I’m neither out nor in

I’ll try on lots of outfits

and brush and style my hair

It’s a topsy turvy kind of day

but I don’t really care

It’s a muddily fuddily way I feel

My head is in a fog

I think I’ll put my runners on

and go out for a jog

I’ll race the other joggers

to see if I can win

It’s a muddily fuddily way I feel

but comfy in my skin

It’s a higgledy piggledy afternoon

My head is in a cloud

I think I’ll put my headphones on

Play music way up loud

I’ll dance around my bedroom

where no one else can see

It’s a higgledy piggledy afternoon

and that’s just fine with me

 

Poem of the Day

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                 The Yarn of Shaun the Sheep

Two Tasmanian farmers have found what they hope to prove is the world’s woolliest sheep. They believe it has been wandering wild for six years and never been shorn.

Peter and Netty Hazell discovered the animal, nicknamed Shaun, wandering on their farm and decided to take him in.

You ought to hear the yarn the folks are spinning

now the news is out both far and wide

about the Tassie wonder from down-under –

our Shaun the Sheep, the nation’s woolly pride.

 

Now Shaun was just a lamb six years ago

when fire came blazing near his eastern farm

and Shaun thought “Yikes! It’s time to do a runner.

If I stay put I’m sure to come to harm.”

 

So off he went to wander through the mountains

and live a lonesome life beneath the trees.

He didn’t fancy staying to be roasted.

He thought the better option was to freeze.

 

But no, he didn’t freeze. His woolly fleece

grew thicker by the day as he went west

and Shaun the Sheep became a walking doona

(a first-rate one – merino at its best).

 

and as the days and months and years went by

that fleece became so big it swallowed Shaun.

But then it chanced that Pete and Netty Hazell

were driving in their ute one autumn morn

 

and saw that fleece – or was it someone’s doona? –

abandoned in a hedge beyond the road.

They went to have a look. The doona bleated.

“Hey Pete! There’s something living in this load!”

 

Then sure enough they saw that doona move.

And as these folks were kind and tender-hearted

they took the creature home to sort it out,

and since that day the three have not been parted.

 

For Shaun the Sheep has learnt to live in style

and changed his name to Shaun the Superstar,

for Shaun was shorn and now he is a legend.

That fleece of his is famous near and far.

 

The Aussie owners say his wool is destined

to make at least three jumpers – superfine.

But if you check what’s told around the campfires

you’ll find an even better story-line.

 

It seems that in that famous Aussie fleece

there lurks a kind of magic super-power

and like a certain Aussie magic pudding

it keeps on growing bigger by the hour.

 

The latest count is now at thirty-five

new woolly garments! Now do you suppose

that yarn could make (if someone keeps on spinning)

the right stuff for an emperor’s new clothes?

 

© Kate O’neil

 

 

 

Poem of the Day

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The oyster way

 

An irritating grain of sand

or pesky piece of grit,

it slips inside the oyster shell

and finds a place to sit.

 

The oyster greets the irksome pest,

confronts it face to face,

bestows it with a soft caress,

a silky, smooth embrace.

 

How wonderful our lives could be,

how great for me and you

if we could tackle obstacles

the way the oysters do.

 

We’d gather all those gritty bits

that grind in vicious swirls

then smooth and sculpture each in turn

to shape a string of pearls.

 

 

©  Jenny Erlanger

 

Poem of the Day

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My Nan speaks Nanish

 

My Nan speaks Nanish, not Hippo or Hag.

It’s a slippery language I’d love to snag,

a scrumptious secret wild horses can’t drag

but Nan won’t let the cat out of the bag!

 

My Nan speaks Nanish, not Thai or Turkey.

Spying on the neighbours what does she see?

Pishposh! Codswollop! Fiddle-de-dee!

Wagging tongues are barking up the wrong tree.

 

My Nan speaks Nanish, not Belgium or Bear.

She’d teach me if she had the time to spare

but it’s half past a freckle, quarter past a hair,

the proof’s in the pudding and hen’s teeth are rare.

 

My Nan speaks Nanish, not Dog or Derry

wetting her whistle watching the telly,

chewing the fat with great aunty Nelly,

bulging eyes growing bigger than bellies

 

My Nan speaks Nanish, not Mooney or Manx.

When old photos lull her into a trance

she’s caught and lead in a merry old dance

by teasing bees knees and fancy ants pants.

 

My Nan speaks Nanish, not Cree or Kipper.

Hob-knobbing in her best bib and tucker.

When she married Pop it was a ripper,

he was the monkey, she the dog’s dinner.

 

My Nan speaks Nanish not Gothic or Goop

sucking on eggs or jumping through hoops.

She calls me little chicken noodle soup.

Possum. Pumpkin. I’m her favourite fruit loop.

 

My Nan speaks Nanish, not Persian or Pie.

It’s tricky talk that leaves me tongue-tied

But if wishes are fishes, pigs can fly,

my Nan can speak Nanish and so can I!

 

© Jane Williams

VIVA LA POETRY REVOLUTION!

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Today I have sent the following email to numerous children’s poets and poetry lovers:

‘Through the new blog site, Australian Children’s Poetry (which now has over 8,500 hits), I am trying to revitalise poetry in Australia, starting with poetry in schools. You might have read https://australianchildrenspoetry.com.au/articles/why-are-booksellers-afraid-of-childrens-poetry/ and the responses from poet Stephen Whiteside and myself, Di Bates.

Here’s a thought: if all of us with a love of and connection to Australian children’s poetry united, we might just put poetry and Australian children, teachers, publishers and booksellers on the same page. United, we can be a powerful force! We can bring poetry into schools and into bookshops. We can exert pressure on organisations such as the CBCA to fund prizes, competitions and/or otherwise promote poetry.

So, what I’m asking you today is for you to consider approaching school/s to offer to present a poetry reading. Have you done this before? Why not now? Then, send an article to me at dibates@outlook.com about your experience and the responses from children and teachers.

Your articles will be posted on the Australian Children’s Poetry blog site and then the CBCA and Australian children’s publishers will be notified that there is the beginning of a groundswell…

Am I being too optimistic? What do you think? Do you want to be part of the Poetry Revolution?’

Subsequent to sending this email, I’ve had an undertaking from our Children’s Laureate Jackie French that she would blog it on her website www.childrenslaureate.org.au and post it in her newsletter. (Thanks, wonderful Jackie!)

Poet and verse novelist Sherryl Clark wrote that she is undertaking a May Gibbs residency in Brisbane in May, part of which is presenting workshops in schools. Initially, when Sherryl suggested poetry workshops, the State Library thought that maybe there wouldn’t be enough interest and that she should offer story writing as well. Sherryl recently received a draft schedule and four of the five schools requested poetry!

You don’t have to be a poet to present a poetry reading! If you are keen to promote poetry in schools, find a half hours’ worth of poems (preferably Australian) that you think children would love to hear recited, and then contact your local school and offer to do a reading.

Become a part of the Australian children’s poetry revolution!

Poem of the Day

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Naked Nonsense: Guundie’s Ridiculous Rhymes

 

  The Edible Swarm

 

By my door are massive trees,

swinging in a storm,

dropping lots of peas –

a gigantic swarm.

It comes in – the peas have keys –

and I squash them just like fleas,

get them on the stove to warm,

put them on a plate,

and eat dinner, thanks to fate!

 

Guundie Kuchling, born in Salzburg, gained her Master of Fine Arts in Vienna and arrived in Australia in 1987 with her husband Gerald, a world turtle expert.

Guundie has published 11 picture books and exhibits widely: oil paintings, water colours, lino prints, and sculptures. Her interests include throat singing, native wildlife, ear rings, growing vegetables, dry felting, labyrinths, and encouraging others to live creatively.

 

Poem of the Day

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Sea song

 

I took my teddy down to the sea

Thinking what fun it was bound to be,

But he took one step and his paws got all wet

He doesn’t want to go for a swim just yet.

 

I took my budgie down to the sea,

Thinking what fun it was bound to be,

But he took one look and he flew away,

He just won’t go to the sea today.

 

I took my puppy down to the sea,

Hoping she’d love it just like me.

She barked at the waves, then ran in to play,

I think we’ll stay at the sea all day!

 

© Sophie Masson