Like 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
One day I opened my wardrobe
and all the junk fell out!
Ten pairs of filthy shoes
and a half-eaten Brussels sprout.
There were socks that smelled really gross,
some old underpants and a book,
and in a plastic lunchbox,
I found the remains of a chook.
A football my dog had chewed,
a tube of cream for my zits,
a few dead flies and a lizard,
and a shirt that no longer fits.
Such a disgusting mess —
I didn’t know what to say.
Back into the wardrobe it went,
To be sorted another day!
Image from Pixabay
This cave is at Undara,
a short walk from our bus.
The cave is nice and cool —
outside it’s 40 plus!
Forty thousand bats
call these caves their home,
and when the sun goes down,
the bats fly out to roam.
But when they do — watch out!
There’s danger in the night:
snakes jump out from trees
and catch them in mid-flight.
The moral of the story?
See lava caves by day!
And keep the bats and snakes
well out of your way.
Undara Lava Tubes, North Queensland. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Hello, human,
how do you do?
Today’s my day
to write to you.
I’m a bird,
but I don’t have wings.
I have flippers —
very handy things!
I can fly through water
in search of fish.
A nice fresh squid
is my favourite dish.
Some of us are blue,
others black and white;
when we come ashore
we make a great sight.
We hope you’ll always
be our friend —
keep the oceans clean
from end to end!
With waddling wishes,
A penguin
Image from Pixabay
A sandy island in the Gulf
beckons us to make landfall.
A picnic here is lots of fun
while flocks of seabirds call.
The waters slapping round the shore
look inviting in the sun,
but listen to the boatman
when he warns everyone:
“Just step into that gentle tide —
up to your knees will do —
and a hungry tiger shark
will bite you clean in two!”
Best leave before the sun goes down,
that’s when the tide will rise
and cover every inch of ground
and catch you by surprise.
Going, going, almost GONE! Sand Island off Karumba, Queensland.
Photo by Ginette Pestana
Dear Santa, here’s my list
of things I want this year:
Lots and lots of juicy leaves,
growing fresh and near.
Lots and lots of happy trees,
so I’ll always have a home,
and may the trees grow nice and tall,
so I’ll have room to roam.
Please don’t let men cut them down,
And destroy our precious bush — No!
For if the forests are destroyed,
I’ve nowhere else to go.
image from Pixabay by Michaela
Now that’s what I call a house,
with lots of space for everyone.
Lots of stairs to run up and down,
and a room on the roof just for fun.
I could play my music really loud —
Mum and Dad wouldn’t hear it at all.
My siblings would be out of my way,
at the other end of a long, long hall.
But when it’s time for dinner,
there’s a problem I can see:
by the time I went down all that way
there’d be nothing left for me!
English stately home. Photo by Ginette Pestana
With watercolours or oil,
the choice is up to you.
The canvas is totally blank,
just like a day that’s new.
Perhaps you’ll draw with pencil,
or sketch with pen and ink,
why not give charcoal a go —
then sit back and see what you think.
With every single brushstroke,
with every line you draw,
you’ll create an image
that’s unmistakably yours.
Famous painter Hans Heysen’s studio at Hahndorf, South Australia. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Oh what a lovely swamp —
I can hear things going ker-plomp!
And even though it’s blue on top,
underneath it’s slop-slop-slop.
Birds swoop low, fish dive deep,
crocodiles open their eyes for a peek.
The trees haven’t seen their roots for years
and nothing is really what it appears.
It’s all very murky and muddy in there,
and who knows what will come up for air?
Undara, North Queensland. Photo by Ginette Pestana
If I were a koala,
how happy I would be.
I’d have one branch for dinner,
and another one for tea.
There’d be no washing up,
and nothing else to do:
so I’d curl up nice and high,
and sleep an hour or two.
Photo from Pexels by Flip Side
Australian Children’s Poetry 