Gum boots when it’s raining
Sports shoes when I’m training
Sparkly shoes for dancing
Riding boots for prancing
Sandals for a summer’s day
High heeled shoes for dress up play
Then sadly comes that time of year
When Mum says, ‘Let’s go shopping dear.
Your feet keep growing, time to choose
A nice new pair of (yuk!) School Shoes.’
WALK
THE CARETAKERS
by Anne Bell
I went to the house,looking for a man to build a fence
knowing nothing of him,except that people said
he built good fences.
His garden warmed July’s cold hills,
but there was nobody there,
save a peacock,a scarecrow and a fine, grey mare.
I found nobody to build my fence,
but I think I’d like a man
who left his home to the care
of a peacock,a scarecrow and a fine, grey mare.
First published in The School Magazine.
I’ll tell you where I’ve been
I don’t think you’ll believe it
It started with a leaf
And me running to retrieve it
It fluttered through the rain
And over lots of puddles
So when I caught it up
I was soaked and in a muddle
It settled down at last
Upon a rotten jetty
I reached for it with hands
That were colder than a Yeti’s
That leaf was almost mine
I stretched out with a sigh
But then it blew away
To a dingy tied nearby
A sudden gale-force gust
Sent us sailing through the ocean
I clung on like a limpet
Feeling seasick from the motion
The wind dropped, I was lost
With no clue of north or south
Right then the leaf bobbed gently
Through a great whale’s gaping mouth
Surprisingly I followed
What else was there to do?
But leaves give whales an itchy throat
So skywards we both flew
I splashed into the sea
And heard a rotor spinning
A helicopter scooped
Another ride beginning!
I madly treaded water
Determined not to drown
We flew above a fire
And the helo tipped us down
I landed fairly softly
Upon a smoky shore
Close by the burned-out jetty
Where the dingy was before
A seagull grabbed the leaf
Flapped through the ashes squawking
My leaf was gone for good
So back home I started walking
That’s why I’m late for tea
It’s true, just like I said
What’s this, a leafy salad?
I might just go to bed.
It rustles, bustles in the breeze
I’m creeping, peeping round the couch
Nearer, nearer almost there
I pounce, but wait
Now it has me!
Let go, you sack of crinkly skin
Stop chasing me
Please stop
You win!
She stands tall,
Faithful,
Stoic and true.
White-washed,
And unwavering.
Carved basalt steps,
A salt encrusted,
Red door,
With a rusty lock.
Up curved, spiral stairs,
A French Fresnal,
Lens flashes,
Guiding ships,
Away from rocks,
And rips.
Bitter maelstrom,
Blustering galeforce.
To the Lighthouse!
The Lighthouse –
If only you knew,
You saved me
And my crew.
A big girl of four and a young boy of two
were walking with their mum and dad through the zoo.
To see all the animals made both children smile
but it also made them tired so they stopped for a while.
They snacked on some treats that mum made before
when dad pointed out something that he saw:
a group of fish swimming around in a pool.
“Did you know,” the dad said, “that they call that a school.”
“I’ll go to school soon,” said little Miss Four.
“Me too,” said the boy – it was hard to ignore.
It was clear to the parents that their little boy
would miss his big sister. It gave them no joy.
And so they decided, that they must set things straight
before it got out of hand, before it was too late.
“Not yet,” said the dad. “It’s just not your turn,
you’re not old enough to go to school and learn.”
“The boy started crying, he just didn’t get
that he wasn’t quite ready to go to school yet.
He was a ‘big boy’, a baby no more –
why couldn’t he go to school with Miss Four?
“It’s ok, son,” said the mum. “Dry your tears,
you won’t go to school for a couple more years.
There’s a number of things you must learn before
you can go to school with little Miss Four.”
“That’s right,” said the dad. “I can think of some.
Like, you must no longer wear a nappy on your bum.
And while you know your whole alphabet
There are other things that you need to learn yet.”
“Just think,” added mum, “about how well you count
but you only know up to a certain amount.
You can do up to ten but little Miss Four
can count to 100 and sometimes even more.”
The tears had dried up, a change had occurred.
The young boy was now hanging on every word.
“And plus,” said the mum, “it isn’t all bad,
you’ll get to stay with me without Miss Four and Dad.”
“Just think of all of the games that we’ll play
and the fun things we’ll do when it’s just us all day.
We’ll get to bake cookies and sing songs and draw,
then we’ll walk up to the school to pick up Miss Four.”
“Ok,” said the boy and he started to grin
but Miss Four had been listening and she wanted in.
“That’s not fair,” she said. “I want to stay home.”
Then Mum and Dad let out a collective groan.
It didn’t seem like they could win either way
and so they left this fight for another day.
‘I’ve examined you quite thoroughly,’
Is what my doctor said.
‘It seems there’s too much empty space
existing in your head.’
‘The vast expanse between your ears
Is that which makes you ill.
It’s far too great a cavity
for your small brain to fill.
You need to go expand your mind,
to fill the empty void,
if rattling noise inside your head
you’re wishing to avoid.’
So I went to the library
and took out lots of books.
Reading lots of stories is
much harder than it looks.
I read and read and read and read
each day, right after school.
I read and read and read and read
until my brain was full.
I read stories about pirates,
I read stories about sport.
I read stories about heroes
and the battles that they fought.
I read stories of adventurers
in the jungles dark and green,
stories of explorers finding
lands no one had seen.
I read fiction books, non-fiction books,
and reference books as well.
And very soon I noticed
that my brain began to swell.
I fear I overfilled my brain
‘Cause it just grows and grows,
and now my poor expanding brain
Leaks out my ears and nose.
So doctor can you tell me how
to keep my brain in check?
My brain keeps oozing out my head
and down my face and neck.
If my brain keeps on expanding
I’m afraid my skull will crack
Quite frankly, Doc, I’d rather have
That awful rattle back.
From morning to evening its scream can be heard,
a warning to all from this dive-bombing bird.
My brother’s too frightened to venture outdoors.
He’s already suffered a scratch from its claws
and Dad has to run from the house to the shed
his arms waving stupidly over his head.
It happens the moment we step out of place,
that flurry of feathers, that beak in the face.
So, hurry up babies and fly from your nest.
Your mother’s becoming a serial pest.
Thought I might stay
Home today.
Safe.
Secure.
Did you now?
Thought I might
Miss you,
too
Much.
Did you now?
Thought maybe
Cos’ you’re smart,
You could
Homeschool me?
Did you now?
The house needs
A vacuum.
Doggy doo to
Be picked up,
So much work.
Didn’t you know?
Thought I might,
But now…
I think
I miss my friends.
I’ll go get ready.
You go do that now.
Giants are we that see
those little mites
of black and legs
following their tales
of trails
carrying to nest
their loads at least
the weight of three
but a mere grain
to you and me
Australian Children’s Poetry 