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.
There was once a well-mannered manatee,
who rarely indulged in profanity.
But when confronted with queues,
she blew every fuse
and swore with manic insanity.
These three short poems were submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #5.
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!
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.}
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.
Animal Feed Available at Restaurant
MENU
Please note our special of the day:
(eat it here – or take-away)
Rye-grass pellets dipped in swill
lightly fried or from the grill
Perhaps your choice is a la carte:
hay or lucerne, pie or tart.
Bonemeal biscuits served with slops
(fewer calories than chops)
Seasonal silage steamed or fried
sautéed birdseed on the side.
And should you feel inclined to quaff
please place your order at the trough
Half a slug, a beetle’s bum,
a spoon of slime, a cup of scum,
a centipede, a rotten plum,
my special, magic tea.
A final pinch of possum poo
and that completes my witch’s brew
but as to what this brew will do…
Here, try some and we’ll see.
EYESORE-OSAURS
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 …
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!
I’ve told them dinner must be served
at six o’clock each night.
How hard is that, I ask, to understand?
I’ve told them when my friends come round
to stay right out of sight,
another very practical command.
I’ve told my dad to clear away
the mess inside the shed
and Mum to tidy up the pantry shelves.
It seems they haven’t listened
to a single word I’ve said.
They’re clearly much too focused on themselves.
It’s time they learned that I’m the boss,
that I make all the rules,
that life was always meant to be that way.
They’re proving hard to educate,
this stubborn pair of fools.
I’ve yet to give an order they’ll obey!
Mum said I shouldn’t worry
that I didn’t need the doc,
that I’d clear away the cobwebs
with a walk around the block
So I went and fetched my sneakers
and I did what I was told.
I grabbed my woollen beanie
and I stepped out in the cold.
The walk was quite refreshing.
quite a joy, I’d have to say
but it didn’t help at all
to make the cobwebs go away.
It might have been less trouble
if I’d gone into my room
and poked into the corners
of my ceiling with a broom.
Australian Children’s Poetry 