Tick-tick-tick-tock,
says my clock.
Tock-tock-tock-tick,
it sounds really sick.
Tick-tick-tock-tick,
is it running slow or quick?
Tock-tick-tick-tock,
what a silly clock!
My clock’s cuckoo! by James Aitchison
Image by Pixabay
Tag Archives: James Aitchison
Where do I go? by James Aitchison
Leave a commentI like to go where it’s slow,
where silence never ends,
where ancient mountains
become my best friends.
Where eagles nest,
I like to sit and just be,
where land has no limits
and where I am free.
Where do I go? by James Aitchison
The view from Pugilists’ Hill, Flinders Ranges. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Gorgeous! by James Aitchison
Leave a commentNot a sound, not a ripple,
as we whisper our way
between sandstone walls —
ten metres high, they say.
Then it gets narrow,
two metres in places,
and on the stone,
are they fossil traces?
It’s a tight squeeze,
you can touch the rock —
but make sure it’s not hiding
a freshwater croc!
Yabbies and turtles,
and a big goanna,
you’ll see them all
in the Gulf Savannah.
Gorgeous! by James Aitchison
Teacher’s note: The Cobbold Gorge was formed 10,000 years ago. Several springs feed into the gorge, keeping the water level constant.
Far North Queensland’s Cobbold Gorge. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Hungry cockatoos by James Aitchison
Leave a commentCockatoos eat with their left leg,
their right hangs on to their perch.
They gobble and chew so neatly
without a sideways lurch.
You’ll see them up on the fence,
having a tasty lunch,
feeding themselves an apple,
never missing a single crunch.
Hungry cockatoos by James Aitchison
Hungry cockatoos. Photo by Philip Webster
Millions of Mounds by James Aitchison
Leave a commentYou’ll see them in the savannah —
some are eight metres tall —
and when you’ve seen one mound,
you haven’t seen them all!
They’re built by tiny termites,
six millimetres long,
engineered with clever skill,
they’re absolutely strong.
With natural air-conditioning,
the heat just disappears;
each multi-storey complex
can last one hundred years!
James Aitchison
Termite mounds in North Queensland’s savannah country. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Where will we go today? by James Aitchison
Leave a commentA soft misty sunrise,
adventure’s in the air,
let’s raise the sails and go
while the weather’s fair.
There’s so much to explore —
where will we go today?
For lunch let’s drop anchor
in a quiet bay.
And in the afternoon,
on the glassy tide,
we’ll try our hand at fishing,
as homeward bound we glide.
Where will we go today? by James Aitchison
Sunrise at Picton, South Island, New Zealand. Photo by Ginette Pestana
I love libraries by James Aitchison
Leave a commentI’ve got stacks of reading to do,
I don’t know where to begin!
Some of the books are big,
And some are very thin.
Will I start on the bottom shelf,
And read my way to the top?
Or start reading down to the ground
Until I have to stop?
Or maybe I’ll read side to side,
Right to left or left to right,
Whatever it is, I know I’ll be reading
Long into the night!
I love libraries by James Aitchison
Image by Pixabay
Cute as a Button by James Aitchison
Leave a commentI am a white chihuahua,
I’m very, very new,
I’ll make you laugh — ha ha ha,
at all the things I do.
Sniffing empty shoes,
trying to bite a chair,
barking at the front door
when nobody is there.
My ears are quite unique,
as you can plainly see,
my eyes are both enormous,
as soulful as can be.
I’m always very hungry,
for food I’ll always scrounge,
but when I’m very good,
I can get up on the lounge!
Button, born 20 October 2025.
Photo by Philip Webster
My Sky by James Aitchison
Leave a commentWhen I have nothing else to do,
I look up at the sky.
There’s always something happening,
as clouds go rolling by.
I like to watch the colours change,
there’s always something new;
and after it rains I might see
a beautiful rainbow or two.
I think I’ll become a pilot —
how good does that sound?
Then I could be up in the sky
instead of on the ground!
Wattle Glen sky. Photo by Philip Webster
At Sunset by James Aitchison
Leave a commentLike skeletons on their way home,
Waving their hands in the air,
The trees at dusk look alive
And I wonder what secrets they’d share.
What troubles disturbed their peace?
What have they witnessed this day?
What birds graced their branches,
What kangaroos passed this way?
Soon they will fade into night,
Another day will be done.
And the bush will sleep until morning
And the blazing of the sun.
Dusk in the bush. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Australian Children’s Poetry 