Tag Archives: James Aitchison

On dinosaur beach by James Aitchison

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Here the cliffs are sinking slow,

Slipping, sliding, down they go.

Fraught with danger, who will save

These ancient cliffs from the waves?

Fossils here are found in scores

On these old Jurassic shores;

Here were creatures long since lost,

When dinosaurs this land had crossed.

A crumbling cliff at Sidmouth on the Jurassic Coast. Photo by Ginette Pestana

Teacher’s note: The English resort town of Sidmouth lies at the mouth of the River Sid in Devon, on the English Channel.  Its origins date from the Iron Age, possibly earlier.  It is famous as a gateway to the Jurassic Coast World Heritage Site. The giant red cliff of Salcombe Hill is a well-known though crumbling landmark.  J.R.R. Tolkien wrote early parts of Lord of the Rings while holidaying in Sidmouth with his family.  

Loopy Limericks by James Aitchison

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There once was a girl named Ludmilla
who lived on a hill in Manila.
She got rid of her cat,
which was scared by a rat,
and bought herself a gorilla.


There was a young man from Cuba
who tried to play the tuba.
He puckered his lips,
pushed hard with his hips,
and blew himself to Bermuda.


There was a young poet called Lear,
whose rhymes were a treat to the ear.
After eating some turmeric
he composed a limerick
and fell asleep for a year.

Image from Pixabay

Everything’s just ducky by James Aitchison

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Three ducks went for a dip,

their bottoms in the air.

I wonder what they found

in the muddy water there.

Did they catch some insects,

or maybe juicy seeds?

I hope it wasn’t bread —

that’s not what a duck’s diet needs!

Photo by Philip Webster

Teacher’s note: Everyone  loves feeding the ducks with bread, but too much isn’t good for them!  A duck’s natural diet includes aquatic plants and seeds, insects, worms and slugs, snails, small fish and frogs.

A fitting scientific question by James Aitchison

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If you love science

as much as I do,

I have a question

I’d like to ask you:

How many Earths do you think

would fit inside the sun?

Let’s count them now —

carefully — one by one.

Give up? 1.3 million Earths

would fit inside the sun —

but they’d be so hot

it wouldn’t be fun!

Image from Pixabay

Awfully silly by James Aitchison

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How awful

that awful

means awful,

when once it meant

full of awe!

How silly

that silly

means silly,

when once it meant

happy and blessed!

It’s awfully silly

how meanings have changed,

and what we say now

has to be re-arranged.

Like, once the silly

filled us with awe,

but we’re not in awe

anymore!

The Journey of a Word

Image from Pixabay

About an old tree by James Aitchison

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This old, old tree

looks weird to me.

Its bark is mossy,

its lichen glossy.

If I had time

I could climb

to its top

and there I’d stop —

under the sky,

up so high.

Photo by Ginette Pestana

Into the Woods by James Aitchison

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I went to Sherwood Forest,

in search of Robin Hood.

I imagined he was watching me

as I wandered through the wood.

Then came a flight of arrows

and I heard the Sheriff’s men;

the ring of swords and battle

resounded through the glen.

But how I was mistaken,

only ghosts are here to thrill,

for Robin Hood’s a memory —

a legend living still.

A very English forest. Photo by Ginette Pestana

An unfamous Australian by James Aitchison

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Sir Cyril Street was the first Australian

to fly round the world upside down.

So famous was he that you can see

his name on signs all over town.

He was all the talk when he reached New York,

thousands of people came out to gawk.

He landed in Delhi in such a hurry,

his propellor sank into someone’s curry.

He narrowly missed the Eiffel Tower

and set Big Ben back by an hour.

He crossed the Arctic, his wheels in the air,

where polar bears came out to stare.

What a hero was this aviator

that his fame has still persisted,

though no one knows when he died

because he never really existed.

Image from pexels

Whose nose is nosiest? by James Aitchison

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Who can smell the farthest,

an animal or us?

Like, I can smell a meat pie

from the back seat of the bus!

But that isn’t very far,

for when I looked up all the facts,

we can smell about five feet —

that’s one point five metres max!

Dogs’ noses are much better —

they can sniff scents near and far,

about two thousand metres

away from where they are!

But the elephant beats all,

sniffing scents twelve miles away,

that’s nineteen thousand metres,

on any given day.

Now if I could grow a trunk,

I’d increase my sense of smell,

but I think I’ll keep my nose —

it fits my face quite well!

Image from Unsplash

Mists of Time by James Aitchison

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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