Crash, bang, wallop
I’m starting up a band
Crash, bang, wallop
my drum stick hits the pan.
Crash, bang, wallop
it’s great to make a noise
Crash, bang, wallop
beats playing with my toys.
Crash, bang, wallop
my pan lid cymbals smash
Crash, bang, wallop
I love to yell and bash.
Crash, bang, wallop
it’s really going well
Crash, bang, wallop
this is music – can’t you tell?
Image from Pixabay
These mussels come from the sea,
they’re not in a leg or an arm.
They’re very fresh and tasty,
and their shells are part of their charm.
Dig into the the bowl for a feast,
and eat a dozen or two;
the only muscles you’ll need
are the ones that help you chew.
Did you call me a grasshopper?
No way; I’m a cricket.
I’m one of two hundred eggs
my mum laid in the soil.
Do you reckon I look
like a mini-adult?
Sure I do because I shed my skin
as I grow and get a new one.
Notice I don’t fly much at all?
Why? Because I can’t––
my wings are too small.
See, I jump, jerk my way around.
Notice the tooth-like bits on my wings?
Only males have them. Listen, I can
rub them together. Hear a chirping sound?
It attracts the cricket chicks.
Ever heard me chirping at night?
That’s because I’m a nocturnal guy
and coldblooded so I liven up in the warm.
I’m warm now––hear me chirp.
Look out, here comes a lizard!
Hide me––I don’t want to be its snack.
Or a frog’s, a big spider’s or a tortoise’s.
Me, I love yummy fungi, plants, insects.
See my fancy compound eyes?
They let me look in many directions at once.
Check out my antennae, my feelers––
they pick up movement, help me catch prey.
Japanese and Chinese people reckon
I bring good luck. So make sure you’re nice to me.
Image from Pexels by Johnny Mckane
Hello, puppy, what’s your name?
Where did they find you?
Have you come to live at my place,
or are you passing through?
I got here first, I make the rules,
so set them in your head:
never ever eat my food,
and don’t sleep in my bed!
This emu is fine,
obeying the sign,
doing no more than forty.
To run any faster
could spell disaster
and would be very naughty.
Teacher’s note: This photo was captured near Wilsons Promontory where many emus roam in the wild.
Chintzy looked at Archer
Lying on the couch
He looked up and she said
You’re nothing but a slouch!
No I’m not, he replied
A puppy needs its sleep
Chintzy, she just sighed
Your excuses you can keep
Another hour passed
And Archer still lay there
Chintzy she was seething
And thought it was unfair
He was asleep in her spot
Where she should now be
But there wasn’t any room
For her to spread out and be free
She listened to him snoring
And decided just to leap
To snuggle in beside him
So she herself could sleep.
There they lay together
Each in their world of dreams
Sharing the space together
Cats and dogs can be friends it seems.
Our garbage man comes once a week
To empty out our bin,
He takes away everything
That Mum and Dad put in.
I wonder if he looks inside
To see what we’ve thrown out.
(All my worn out underpants
Would make him scream and shout!)
All our rotten vegies,
All our stinky cheese,
All the food that has expired,
Travels on the breeze.
No wonder he speeds off each week,
He doesn’t hang around.
With so much putrid garbage,
His wheels don’t touch the ground!
My Christmas Story
I’m writing a Christmas story.
It feels like Winter snow.
I’d better get a move on;
Just six more sleeps to go.
I’m writing a Christmas story.
It sounds like Ho Ho Ho.
I’d better get my skates on;
Just five more sleeps to go.
I’m writing a Christmas story.
It smells like cookie dough.
I’d better get a roll on;
Just four more sleeps to go.
I’m writing a Christmas story,
But it’s not the one I know.
I’d better pull the reins in
With three more sleeps to go.
I’m writing a Christmas story.
It smells like fresh mango,
I’d better take it easy;
Still two more sleeps to go.
I’m writing a Christmas story.
It sounds like the sea’s flow,
It’s time to take a rest now;
Just one more sleep to go.
I’m writing a Christmas story.
It feels like Summer’s glow.
And today I’ll live that story;
A Christmas of my own.
By Kylie Covark
LETTER “C”
C them there on windows,
C them there in stores,
C them up all over,
C them now because…
C is for Christmas cards!
Christmas cards with holly,
Cards with silver bells,
Cards with laughing Santas,
Cards that wish you well.
Christmas cards with angels,
Cards with trees and snow,
Cards with candles burning,
Cards that gleam and glow.
Christmas cards with reindeers,
Leaping through the sky,
Up there on the mantel —
Christmas Day is nigh!
Christmas cards with sparkle,
Heartfelt cards so true;
Why can’t all that goodwill
Last the whole year through?
James Aitchison
Progression
She showed it
to her slavedriver
who saw the possibilities
He promoted slave Hannah
to supervise
the sawing team
Before,
hundreds pulled the immense stone block
on its log rollers
A team of twenty waited at the back
to grasp the log-load
when it had been run over
The back log had to be
hauled to the front
to be run over yet again
If only the stone could stay still
on the logs while they kept rolling
Clearly impossible. Hannah scowled
But a slice of log sawn from one end
would roll the same way
With a hole in the middle
supporting – well we’d call it an axle
and a second round piece from the log
On her model it worked perfectly
Wheels! Wooden wheels!
The first cart
Wheelbarrows, trains, cars, trucks
cogs, pulleys, clocks, machines
Life on earth would never be the same.
Virginia Lowe
Notes:
The Israelites or Jews were kept slaves by the Egyptians, so I’m imagining it was the same time as they built the pyramids – that’s why I called the slave Hannah, originally a Jewish name.
In fact it wasn’t the same time – the pyramids were built about 300 years before the Israelite’s turned up. But it makes a more interesting story. A very very old story.
I couldn’t think of any way to describe the axle apart from our word, but it’s a concept they wouldn’t have had. I’d like to hear if anyone can think of how the rod holding the two wheels together and on the ground, could be described otherwise.
The Jews escaped from Egypt with the help of Moses, who persuaded the king, Pharaoh, to let them go with the help of ten plagues. It is all there told in the Bible in the book Exodus, and is celebrated each year by the Jewish community as Passover.
Ideas:
Maths: Looking at shape make Pyramids with cardboard
Humanities: Research the logistics of the building of the Pyramids
Learn about Jewish history and culture
Music: “Let my people go” This includes images that will help in learning about
Jewish history
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XkEmS3hWmmU
Art: Paint: Make a giant class cardboard pyramid and creatively decorate it
Australian Children’s Poetry 