Poem of the Day

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Beach
by Dianne Bates

A grain of sand on its own,

A tiny world

in the palm of your hand.

But still, nothing much…

Add millions of other grains,

Shape them with sea-water

And you’ve got a sand-castle.

Next add trillions and trillions of grains                                                                                                                        Getting there…

And zillions and zillions more —

Now you’re talking!

 

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #8

Prompt8

 

 

 

Dianne says: I brainstormed for a long time listing all the close encounters a child
might have — animals, insects, aliens and so on. Finished up on a beach
with a child looking at starfish. It was only when I thought of sand,
zillions of grains in close encounter with one another, that I thought of
what happens as a result. Hence this beach poem!

Poem of the Day

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Line Crime

by Dianne Bates

I’m sick of waiting for the bathroom
with Sister Susie taking her time
Preening herself while I’m busting to go —
that has to be a crime.

If Francis Drake had to wait in a bathroom queue
instead of setting sail on the sea,
he might not be known at all today
simply because of a pee.

 

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #7

Prompt7

Poems of the Day

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These three short poems were submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #5.

Prompt5

A Spider’s Dilemma

by Pat Simmons

An arthritic arachnid with eight knobbly knees

Sought medical help for her painful disease.

 

Her doctor prescribed her with cream to rub in

But the problem was how and just where to begin!

 

 Pillow Pet

By Nadine Cranenburgh

My old dog Spot
is hard to spot
when hiding in my bed

He’s found a spot
all soft and hot
curled underneath my head

{Nadine says: The aim was to include a word that has multiple meanings.}

Greedy Guts

by Dianne Bates

Little Jack Horner
Sat in the corner,
Eating his Christmas pie

He ate it all, every crumb.
‘What’s for seconds?’
he asked his mum.

Poem of the Day

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Words

by Dianne Bates

Some have shaky edges
Twisting and flapping like netted fish
And the tongue is tied.

Sometimes the mouth opens and closes
like a trap.

But the best words —
The easiest words —
are bridges:

‘Be my friend,’
‘Come and play.’

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #3

Prompt3

Dianne says: To get to this poem, I brain-stormed a variety of shapes (geometric shapes, the shape of thoughts and so on) until I arrived at words. In the end I didn’t even use the word ‘shape’; it simply acted as a starting point.

Poem of the Day

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Fields of Summer

by Dianne Bates

 

Peakhurst

A wilderness of T-trees

In our paddock playground

One free day in the midst of childhood

A day filled with everything

 

We are wild things,

Charging, ducking, hiding,

Flies swamping our sweaty faces

 

A dove, startled, flies up and

Petals fall like a sprinkle of rain

As we play

A game of cowboys and Indians

With imaginary guns

Bang! Bang! You’re dead!

 

Falling to the ground face-up

Wisps of clouds slide above

As if breathing in and out.

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #2

Prompt2

Dianne says: The letter T reminded me of tea-tree bushes that as children my brother, sister and I played among. We didn’t get much time to play as we were forever working on the farm (pigs, goats and poultry).

Poem of the Day

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1960s Campbelltown

by Dianne Bates

On the highway to Appin
skies bled on summer nights.
The road hummed to town,
trucks sped coal to the coast,
and south of main street
silent on a bridge,
Fisher’s Ghost.

Weekdays we rose at five
blowing balls of warmth into winter air,
and milking the cows
I sang at the bails,
‘Rose Marie, I love you.’

Summer was blowies in the cream,
butter that melted,
eggs from gasping hens.
Mrs Tietzel brought the mail,
Campbell the bread,
the days moved sideways.

Saturday was cricket
or Menangle trots,
swimming at the Woolwash
and the Queen Street shops.

Bill was cockatoo for SP bookies in pubs
and kids lined up at the picture house,
game girls rubbing cheeks with bristling boys.
Paspalum brushed the sky
and we forgot ourselves.

In the showground cemetery
beneath the shadow of Ruse
who sowed the first grain
we made rubbings on tombs;
JOHN MACARTHUR, ELIZABETH, R.I.P.

In Mawson Park
the band played Matilda,
someone scribbled his mind on toilet walls,
and, beyond trains that steamed to Sydney,
I dreamed a freedom of cities and age.

© Dianne Bates

Poem of the Day

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Do Not!

by Dianne Bates

 

Do not pat a cranky cat!

Do not jig with a pig!

Do not steal a seal!

Do not lick a chick!

Do not wear a llama’s ‘jamas!

Do not dine with swine!

Do not stare at a bear!

Do not smile at a crocodile!

Do not force a horse!

Do not pull a bull!

Do not twirl a girl!

Do not annoy a boy!

 

 

 

Greetings and Welcome

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Balloons-AnimatedGreetings and welcome to all poetry lovers visiting this brand new site!

Within two days of the Australian Children’s Poetry site going up, there were well over 2,000 hits, a fair indication of the interest nationally and internationally in Australian children’s poets and their poetry.

Thanks so much to all of you who have left congratulatory comments and offers of future support. There’s more to come, so remember to keep popping over, and do spread the word, please. (Don’t forget to contribute poems, articles, links, reviews and interviews, as well.)

The inspiration for creating the blog came about seven years ago when I was compiling Australian children’s poems for an anthology. While trying to track down poets’ contact details (to ask for permission and to offer payment), I soon found that most Australian children’s poets do not have an online presence. Why isn’t there a dedicated site, I asked myself when organisations such as the National Library of Australia were unable to locate one.

Believing that it if it’s got to be, it’s up to me, I began exploring the options for a website. I stopped short at a quote of $25,000 to build one. Then I found Helen Ross, a children’s author, who agreed to create a blog for far less money. Thank you, Helen! (When my funding application is approved, I will let the world know which organisation has given its much welcomed support.)

Meanwhile, the anthology I’d compiled was (finally) contracted, and Our Home is Dirt by Sea will be published by Walker Books Australia in 2015. Thank you, Sarah Foster, one of the few Australian publishers who give ongoing support to publishing children’s poetry.

I asked all contributing poets if they would like to leave their contact details with their biographies so that anthologists, festival, conference organisers and schools could apply to use their poems and/or to invite the poets to speak publicly, and to present poetry readings. I also asked them to provide up to three poems each to give a sample of their talents.

Poetry is a big deal in the UK where it is common for children’s poets to strut their stuff in schools, etc. And, too, although I don’t have statistics to support my claim, I believe there are more poetry collections and anthologies published there each year than here in Australia.

My aim is to put Australian children’s poetry on every map there is. Please help spread the word. And in the meantime, enjoy what’s on offer here and leave your comments. Thanks!

Dianne (Di) Bates

11/3/14