Fossil Hunters

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Fossil Hunters

The project’s elementary:

find rock-types sedimentary

then look for marks of mystery

that tell Earth’s ancient history.


Some skeletons of bone turned stone

and eggshells left by creatures grown

much bigger than an elephant.

Were dinosaurs intelligent?


A lot of effort is exerted

digging rocks and getting dirtied

when you are a scientist

and proud Pal-e-ontologist.



Dinosaurs are awesome.  And thanks to Paleontologists, we’ve recently learnt that some had fancy feathers or colourful collars – all through finding fantastic fossils.

Celia Berrell

Poem of the Day



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 …


Poem of the Day


Come and see the dinosaurs

by Bill Condon


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!



Poem of the Day


The Penguisaur

by Stephen Whiteside 


The penguisaur lived long ago, but only way down south.

It had long rows of ugly teeth arranged within its mouth.

It lived in crowds upon the ice, and swam for food each day,

And when it dived it threw behind a mighty spume of spray.


It waddled when it walked because its legs were short and stumpy.

It looked quite cute, but don’t be fooled. Its mood was often grumpy.

It liked to feed on killer whales, and humpback whales as well,

And wayward tortoises, because they have a crunchy shell.


It specially liked to guzzle blood that flowed from meat fresh killed,

And grew extremely angry if too much of it was spilled.

It opened wide its vicious teeth, and gave a mighty roar,

While blood formed clots upon the feathers of the penguisaur


Its snowy chest was fast defaced by blood and gore and guts.

Mark my word – it was a fearsome beast, no ifs or buts.

When chewing gobs of whale, a crazed look came into its eye.

Its feathers were ten metres long, yet still it couldn’t fly.


Half of it was dinosaur, and half was flightless bird,

But of it, in the text books, you will never read a word.

That’s because its fossiled forms are trapped beneath the ice,

And searching for such evidence is never very nice.


Maybe somewhere out among the broad Antarctic chill,

A penguisaur, snap frozen and intact, is lying still.

Perhaps one day a scientist will thaw its body out,

And it will grab him in its jaw, and shake him inside out!


 ©   Stephen Whiteside