Every spring I lose my house —
it likes to disappear —
behind the flowers and bushes
that grow so fast round here.
No more bare old branches,
no more empty beds;
there’s greenery and colour
that everywhere turns heads.
Spring wakes up my garden,
puts magic in the air,
along with different scents
a-drifting here and there.
Springtime at an old miner’s cottage, Creswick, Victoria. Photo by Ginette Pestana
I wonder who lived here,
I wonder where they went?
Did they make a living,
or were their hopes all spent?
Did they dream of copper,
digging riches from the ground?
They haven’t been forgotten
for there’s history all around.
Perhaps at night their ghosts
still venture out to roam,
stepping lightly through the gloom
to once again come home.
The old Williams cottage, Blinman, South Australia. Photo by Ginette Pestana
One day I’m going to build a house
with cheery yellow candy.
I’ll put ice creams on the roof,
and fruit gums nice and handy.
Then I’ll add two cup cakes,
with lollypops galore,
liquorice allsorts in the corners,
and chocolates by the door.
Teacher’s note: This house can be found in the storybook corner of the Hunter Valley Gardens, Pokolbin.
Australian Children’s Poetry 