We’ve heard of Jack Frost, but is he alone?
Is there a Jacky? Is there a Joan?
Is Mrs Frost grim with a heart that is steely?
Or Jack’s tender side – more touchy-feely?
When he looks in the mirror and thinks he is cool,
does she send him to SpecSavers and call him a fool?
Does Jack have a temper? Prone to cold snaps?
Or misunderstood, the nicest of chaps?
(In response to Winter Waves prompt)
There was once a well-mannered manatee,
who rarely indulged in profanity.
But when confronted with queues,
she blew every fuse
and swore with manic insanity.
THE MIRACLE TREE
We bought a tree from the corner shop –
bargain price for being dead.
We took it home and straight away,
stuck an angel on its head.
We tizzed it up with twirly bits,
and one bright shiny star.
Then we turned on the fairy lights
and the Christmas tree went
‘Ahhhhh.’
Oh Blow it
My nose was feeling ugly,
but I knew just the ticket.
I put it in a beauty contest . . .
the judges didn’t pick it.
Bill Condon
I need to walk each morning because there’s a horse that waits for me to rub its nose.
Though whether I stay five minutes or an hour,
I can never rub away its loneliness.
I need to walk so I can talk to a white dog that prowls in endless circles,
forever haunted by a chain, that cuts us both.
Just out the window seems to be
a better place for you and me.
There’s sunshine there
and giant slides …
and if you’ve brave
there’s dragon rides!
There’s trees to climb
that scrape the moon,
and monsters dance
in the lagoon,
and Bigfoots bounce
on trampolines,
and tigers sneak up
unforeseen
and strike like lightning
at their prey –
then lick them ’till
they’re licked away!
If only classrooms had lagoons
on sleepy Monday afternoons.
I push my pen around the page,
it pushes back and sneers.
When I incur a paper cut –
I cry, the paper jeers.
A face appears upon the page –
a horrid, mocking troll.
Now my chair collapses
and I’m truly on a roll.
My pen falls down beside me.
I’m sure I hear it speak.
It mutters, ‘Feelin’ lucky, punk?’
I answer, ‘Feelin’ weak’.
Dead lines are sneaking up on me,
like zombies, clawed extended.
My brain is full of jellybeans –
the jar has been upended.
My Muse is out to get me
and I’m filled with angst and fear.
I send regards from Writer’s Hell,
be thankful you’re not here.
There was once a well-mannered manatee,
who rarely indulged in profanity.
But when confronted with queues,
she blew every fuse
and swore with manic insanity.
The mother was a ghost gum,
a really terrific tree-mum.
The father was a noble oak,
a shining prince of tree-dom.
You’d think with a family tree like that,
the offshoot would have to be a winner.
Instead he was a toothpick,
who lived in fear of dinner.
Bill says: I wrote this years ago when I was very silly. Nothing’s changed.
EYESORE-OSAURS
By Bill Condon
I’ve studied all the dinosaurs
That history’s unravelled,
And found a few new species
On the many roads I’ve travelled.
There’s the arrogant Ignore-osaur
That walks with head on high.
It does not even deign to look
As it trundles by.
The Badbreath-osaur has germs galore
And needs to brush its teeth.
The Crook-osaur is, for sure,
A crafty little thief.
The Bore-osaur is tedious,
The Brag-osaur’s a pain.
If nothing else, Umbrella-saurs,
Are handy in the rain.
I quite admire the Stutter-saur
It tries with all its might,
To master elocution,
But it never gets it right.
My favourite though,
I have to say, is bits of this and that.
Part brontosaur, part stegosaur,
Part giant pussycat.
I call it Jigsaw-osaur,
Its wonder never ceases.
I have a skeleton of one,
Though I’m missing vital pieces …
Australian Children’s Poetry 