Did dinosaurs roam this way?
Did monsters search for prey?
And ancient man — did he hunt here
With just a humble spear?
The forest holds its secrets fast,
Conspires to shroud the past,
Yet still a lost world’s whispering,
Tangled vines are shivering.
The mists of time will claim me,
And who will ever blame me,
If I venture to explore
What no one’s seen before.
Gold Coast hinterland. Photo by James Aitchison
This is the way I like to see
the ocean and the sky.
No pollution, no rubbish dumped,
no plastic floating by.
Oceans and skies, clean and clear,
the way they ought to be;
if you agree they should be saved,
it’s up to you and me.
Sea and sky, South Island, New Zealand. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Teacher’s note: What could you do to keep oceans and rivers clean?
Image created by ChatGPT on reading The Gollywumpa poem
Nonsense with nonce
Introduction: Nonce words are nonsense words created for a specific situation, often in children’s poetry. In Lewis Carroll’s poem Jabberwocky, he invented the nonce words chortle and galumph, which are now in current use as part of the language. Perhaps the most famous nonce word — runcible — was created by Edward Lear for his poem The Owl and the Pussycat. There is no such thing as a runcible spoon. Lear loved the word so much he wrote about runcible hats, runcible cats and a runcible wall.
Invite students to invent their own nonce words and use them in poems or stories. They could also draw what they think their Gollywumpa looks like.
The Gollywumpa by James Aitchison
Here it comes,
two heads and a nose,
how it got them
nobody knows.
Purple wings
grow out of one ear,
in the other a cabbage,
so how can it hear?
Its favourite song
is Bonglybooboo,
the words of which
it found in the zoo.
It doesn’t have feet,
it runs on three wheels,
and when it gets hungry
it dines on eel meals.
It hates the winter,
does the poor gollywumpa,
so it puts on five hats
and a thicketty jumper.
There once was a camel
Out in the desert,
Who craved something sweet
To eat for dessert.
But search as he may,
He found no traces
Of any date trees
Or any oases.
Image from Pixabay
Teachers’ note: This poem offers a fun opportunity to discuss the differences
between desert/dessert, and the plural of oasis/oases.
high in the tree-top
kookaburras form a choir
notes falling with leaves
my breath clouds like mist
summer bleeds from the branches
I walk on colour
Image from Pixabay
The bright afternoon is over,
the sun is low in the sky,
the world is holding its breath
and the trees are waving goodbye.
The first night creatures are stirring
and bats come out to play,
as the night spreads over the plain
and claims the leavings of the day.
When the sun goes down by James Aitchison
Desert sunset, Australia. Photo by Ginette Pestana
There was a young man from Crete,
Who walked on his hands not his feet,
What a fun affair
To have your knees in the air,
And shake toes with the people you meet.
There was a young man from Peru,
Who swallowed a mouthful of glue.
His lips were sealed,
His nose was congealed,
And his face turned a bright shade of blue.
Loony Limericks by James Aitchison
Image from Pexels
Where to put the pot?
Under the bed
or on your head?
Where to put the pot?
..
Where to put the pot?
Behind the door
or on the floor?
Where to put the pot?
…
Where to put the pot?
I haven’t a clue,
what can I do?
I haven’t got a pot!
This poem is completely potty! by James Aitchison
Image from Pixabay
Bendy Wendy the contortionist
could tie herself in knots:
not just one or two knots,
but lots and lots and lots!
Until she got so twisted,
like a piece of rope,
and no one could undo her,
they all just gave up hope.
But one winter’s morning
Wendy caught a cold,
she sneezed and sneezed so hard,
her body just unrolled.
Bendy Wendy by James Aitchison
Image from Pexels
Their names are etched forever
beneath a statue’s feet,
or beside a lofty obelisk
on every main street.
They left their farms to fight,
young men who heard the call,
from offices and banks,
prepared to give their all.
Some fell in foreign fields,
in trenches far away,
while others maimed and struggling,
relived their horrors every day.
The debt our nation owes them —
how can it be repaid?
Let us all remember them,
let not their honour fade.
A DAY LIKE NO OTHER by James Aitchison
Photo sent in by James Aitchison: “George William Aitchison (1873-1950) served with the NSW Volunteer Bushmen in the Boer War”
Teacher’s note: From the Boer War to Afghanistan, 103,101 men and women have died serving Australia.
Australian Children’s Poetry 