Come and see the dinosaurs
dancing in the street,
with bows upon their shiny claws
and glitter on their feet.
A little liposuction,
lippy here and there,
with plaited tails and painted toes
and roses in their hair.
Dripping with perfumery
and skipping to and fro,
a dozen dainty dinosaurs
putting on a show.
They’ve visited the beauty shop –
a rare and lovely treat –
and now they’re happy dinosaurs,
dancing in the street!
Bill Condon
Uncle Jack
Uncle Jack belongs Outback
so when he comes to visit,
he brings along his kangaroo
and Bert, his blue-tongue lizard.
He decorates the Christmas tree
with lots of slimy critters,
and when he turns the lights up high
he makes snakeburger fritters.
He also brings his cattle dog –
it bites off postie’s limbs.
On Christmas Eve it stays awake
howling sacred hymns.
Uncle carves the turkey up,
(half for him and half for pup)
and when it’s time to have dessert
he swipes my share to give to Bert!
His kangaroo sits at the table,
on the lap of Auntie Mabel.
It chews away on Christmas cake
and Auntie’s finger(by mistake).
After lunch Jack tells us that
He’ll show us how to shear the cat.
His presents bring us added gloom,
a gift-wrapped spider’s in my room.
His boomerang display is free
it’s always a catastrophe.
He throws it with a cocky leer,
it wedges in old Grannie’s ear.
The police are called to have a chat.
They ask about the crewcut cat.
And so it’s time to say goodbye,
a tear wells up inside his eye,
he gushes like a broken drain,
we have to push him on the train.
And Uncle Jack returns Outback,
with dog and roo and lizard,
and it only takes us til July
to recover from his visit.
© Bill Condon
Note: The chest of poems for Poem of the Day has been empty for many days. Where are the poems? If you’d like to see your children’s poem published, please send it along to dibates@outlook.com
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.’
© Bill Condon
Diving In
Diving in on a dark and fog-drowned morning
my heart snaps shut and still —
frozen like the scream in my throat.
Sea monsters rise from deep below to brush against my legs.
I’m too terrified to look down in case they’re looking up.
Straight into my eyes.
I strike out hard, splashing and kicking,
to stop from being drowned
by my imagination.
© Bill Condon
The Scary Boy
Professor Pamela McGurk
was famed for Scientific Work.
It was she who proved beyond a doubt,
false teeth look better in, than out.
She also used her science skills
to prove that ducks, don’t pay their bills.
As well she made a baked bean car . . .
with the help of wind, it travelled far.
But the thing that gave her greatest joy
was a machine she called, The Scary Boy.
It was shiny and silver and covered in spots.
It was built entirely of pans and pots.
It had eyes and a nose and a mouth and hands,
and a motor that ran, on old rubber bands.
It was tall and purry and furry and fat.
It had ears that flapped, like the wings of a bat.
It had buttons and switches and gadgets and plugs –
and the floor was a carpet – of Ladybird Bugs.
It was big, it was bold, it was brash, it was new.
And the whole world wondered, ‘What does it do?’
She flicked it on and what did it do?
Nothing at all, except go . . .
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
© Bill Condon
They Danced in the Town
Grandmother Mulligan never left the house,
not once in ninety-eight years.
She could hardly talk and she could not walk –
but, she still had a very fine time,
oh yes, she still had a very fine time.
For every night as she slept, her nose crept away,
and danced in the town with her ears, her ears.
Danced in the town with her ears.
Little old lady, Penelope Simms,
had aches in her toenails and all of her limbs.
Her back was hunched, her walk was slow –
there wasn’t much difference from Stop and Go –
but, she still had a very fine time,
oh yes, she still had a very fine time.
For every night as she slept, her toes crept away,
and danced in the town with her ears, her ears.
Danced in the town with her ears.
Dear old Doddie had a clapped out body,
she was wrapped in a plaster cast.
She could not itch, she could not twitch,
her life was fading fast –
but, she still had a very fine time,
oh yes, she still had a very fine time.
For every night as she slept, her nose crept away,
and danced in the town with her ears, her ears.
Danced in the town with her ears!
© Bill Condon
Bad Sport
In the hush of night
with the door shut tight,
the toilet bowl goes bowling.
The toilet seat grows big flat feet,
and takes itself a’strolling.
But the toilet roll is a sorry soul
which sometimes goes berserk,
when it can’t cavort in toilet sport,
because of paper work.
© Bill Condon
Bill Condon has published several collections of poems including That Smell is My Brother, Rock and Roll Elephants and Don’t Throw Rocks at Chicken Pox. Bill’s latest book is a junior novel, The Simple Things (Allen & Unwin, 2014)
Bad Sport
In the hush of night
with the door shut tight,
the toilet bowl goes bowling.
The toilet seat grows big flat feet,
and takes itself a’strolling.
But the toilet roll is a sorry soul
which sometimes goes berserk,
when it can’t cavort in toilet sport,
because of paper work.
© Bill Condon
Bill Condon has published several collections of poems including That Smell is My Brother, Rock and Roll Elephants and Don’t Throw Rocks at Chicken Pox. Bill’s latest book is a junior novel, The Simple Things (Allen & Unwin, 2014)
I Need To Walk
I need to walk each morning
because there’s a horse that waits for me to rubs 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.
© Bill Condon
Bill’s latest book is the junior novel The Simple Things, published by Allen & Unwin in March, 2014.
Australian Children’s Poetry 