She twisted into awesome shapes,
her limbs like sticks of foam.
I wish someone had said you’re not
to try this out at home.
I should have stuck to juggling balls
or spinning plates instead.
It’s not much fun when both your legs
are stuck behind your head!
There was once a little cricket,
Who was happy as could be.
He was chirpy before breakfast.
He was chirpy after tea.
He was chirpy when the sun rose
He was chirpy when it set.
When it comes to being chirpy,
No more chirpy could you get!
At one time when he was chirping
As the sun came up at dawn,
He was hopping through the flowers;
He was jumping on the lawn;
But, quite suddenly, a sprinkler
Shot him with a shower of spray
And he didn’t feel like chirping
Till the sprinkler went away.
Now this jolly little cricket
Really loved to have a dance,
He would look around for partners
When he ever had the chance.
They would waltz around the kitchen;
They would jig right down the hall.
Where they really kicked their heels up
Was the weekly cricket ball!
Monty says: Lacking inspiration, I tried imagination and hit on a cricket ball!
One picnic with my family I would rather now forget,
Since it started with a thunderstorm that left us very wet.
We ran like rabbits to the car and tried to eat our lunch,
But our sandwiches were soggy and our biscuits lacked their crunch.
We aimed to keep the rain out so we wound the windows up,
But that just made them foggy. Then I dropped my half-full cup!
My parents weren’t too pleased with me as anyone could tell
And then the baby filled the car with a most awful smell!
At last we saw the rain had stopped, so quickly we got out.
Mum changed the baby’s nappy. It was then Dad gave a shout.
“Oh no, we’ve run over a nail!” He’d found a tyre was flat.
So we weren’t going anywhere till he had dealt with that.
While Dad was working on the wheel, I got my brand new ball.
I kicked it high into a tree, but it refused to fall!
So then I said: “I’ll climb the tree and shake the football down.”
But Mum said: “You’ll do no such thing” and stopped me with a frown.
I didn’t want to lose the ball, but what would you have done?
It looked as if I’d have to save to buy another one.
Just then a teenage boy came by. He said: “Leave it to me.”
At once he climbed up to the branch and shook the football free!
I tried to catch it as it fell, but Mum caught it instead.
She didn’t catch it in her hands. It landed on her head!
I thought it wasn’t wise to laugh in case she was upset.
She’d told me not to bring the ball. I hoped that she’d forget.
When finally Dad changed the tyre, he said: “It’s time to go.
Those heavy clouds are coming back. The journey will be slow.”
I moaned: “An hour here’s not enough. We need some time to play!”
But Mum declared: “Your Dad is right. Let’s come another day.”
Although this time our picnic didn’t seem much fun at all,
We did arrive home safely and I still had my new ball.
The baby now is chuckling and we’re by the fire and warm.
It still was an adventure, even with the winter storm.
Monty says: Some picnics are memorable for the wrong reasons, but even if not exactly enjoyable they can still supply some interesting and humorous experiences.
Humungous Fungus is among us
And it’s rather smelly.
It slowly creeps between your toes
Then right up to your belly.
It can be blue but when it’s pink
It gives off such an awful stink.
Sometimes it floats down in the breeze
And leaves great blobs on both your knees.
When it sparkles like a fairy
Then you must be very wary.
If it waves its magic wand
You’ll smell like slime from next door’s pond.
Beware if Fungus goes to school
It doesn’t care who looks a fool.
Your teacher might get quite a shock
If Fungus hides inside his sock.
If poor Grandma while she’s sitting
Concentrating on her knitting
Notices a sudden pull
It’s Fungus climbing up her wool.
Even Mum must be quite careful
She might cop a blobby hair full
If she happens to be shopping
Right where Fungus slime is dropping.
Family pets should run and hide
‘Cos Fungus loves to slip and slide
Into kennels, baskets, cages
Sending critters into rages.
But Fungus loathes a water spray
So get yourself one right away
And squirt that fiend with all your might
You’ll be a hero overnight.
It’s Dad’s night to cook
And I can’t help a shiver.
What kind of yuckfest
Will he dare to deliver?
Last time, it was tripe
In an oniony sauce
With a side dish of sprouts
Boiled to green pulp of course.
Before that were brains
Fried in oil to a mush.
One taste and we gave them
A right royal flush.
Then kidneys and steak
In a pudding, you know.
He left out the steak:
It was kidneys and dough.
So now on the bench
Something slimy pink quivers
And into the bowl
Oozes blood in red rivers.
Dad says, ‘Don’t you fret.
There’s a feast in the making
Like you’ve never seen,
I mean truly breathtaking.’
He stirs and he sautés.
He toasts and he turns.
He dices and spices
And browns till it burns.
We stare at our plates
Dad says, ‘Please try a sliver.’
But whatever is it?
Erk, charred chicken liver!
‘That’s it’, says my mother,
‘Dad’s cooking will stop
Unless it’s a pizza
He buys from the shop.’
Dad seems kind of sad.
We’ve upset him, I think.
But then he turns round
And he gives me a wink.
It’s all been a fake
An ingenious plan…
One I must remember
When I am a man.
We’re off to visit the wizard,
the wizard so wise that he knows
just what to do next
if ever you’re hexed
and the best way to clean between toes.
This wizard does not use a blizzard –
no blizzard, no twister, no snows.
No silly pretext.
No need to be vexed.
Nothing that you might suppose.
This wizard is well worth a visit.
To get there, as everyone knows,
you don’t need a text
that might leave you perplexed.
You’re fine if you follow your nose.
The ticket’s important.
Your favourite show
is almost sold out
but you’re dying to go.
You groan at the queue
but you can’t walk away;
there’s no other chance.
You must see it today.
Yes, you’re dying to go,
But not just to the show.
One coffee too many,
and the queue is so slow.
The choice is so cruel,
What will you do?
You have to choose now:
The queue or the loo?
It’s Nature that wins,
As Nature will do,
but you’ll know next time
that it’s ‘P’ before ‘Q’.
7Kate says: This is a poem inspired by the long-treasured advice of a favourite aunty.
Animals ev’rywhere always amaze:
Big beefy buffaloes quietly graze;
Cats with their claws out can climb and can scratch;
Dogs dive for balls using teeth for a catch;
Elephants’ ears are as big as can be;
Foxes from hunters can speedily flee;
Gentle giraffes are remarkably tall;
Heavyweight hippos have ears that are small.
I like the ibex. It surely can climb.
Just don’t wait for zebra. I haven’t the time!
Author comment: For an alphabetic assignment I wanted a subject of interest to children that was represented by many examples. This would help provide maximum flexibility for the alphabetic choices and the accompanying rhymes. Animals seemed ideal. I decided to underline the alphabetic structure with some alliteration and the final line, but stopped at J to avoid monotony and less convincing examples.
by Anne Bell
Past houses,trees and grazing sheep,
I race and rock and sway
and I say to the track of strong, firm steel
that likes the sound of a hurrying wheel,
I’ll soon be back,
be back,
be back.
Author comment: Goodness gracious me…this was first published in The School Magaz Circa Yonks AD when that journal was edited by Lilith Norman and still in black and white mode.
A binocular becomes a monocular, dear
If you forget to remove
One of the covers while tossing the other
What are you trying to prove?
Being like Nelson applying the eye
To a scene that you just cannot see?
Blind eye a’turning to half of the scene
That’s what it seems to me
Red tape, policy, jargon and all
Means nothing is seen in its breadth
Binocular or monocular, dear?
Use both eyes and you’re winning on strength
So remember removing both lens caps today
Will give you binocular vision
While squinting through one (while it might be more fun)
Will send half your senses to prison.
Australian Children’s Poetry 