The Gollywumpa by James Aitchison

Leave a comment

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.

The unlucky camel by James Aitchison

Leave a comment

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.

Autumn Haikus by James Aitchison

Leave a comment

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

When the sun goes down by James Aitchison

Leave a comment

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

Loony Limericks by James Aitchison

Leave a comment

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

This poem is completely potty! by James Aitchison

Leave a comment

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 by James Aitchison

Leave a comment

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

A Day Like No Other by James Aitchison

1 Comment

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.

Beware the gigglegum bird by James Aitchison

Leave a comment

High in a tree

lived a gigglegum bird —

its noise was the weirdest

you ever heard.

When it was happy

it made a chirp

that sounded like

a thunderous burp.

It scared a crow,

it scared an owl,

it scared a cow

and made it howl. 

Kangaroos heard it

and off they scurried,

platypuses were perplexed

while wombats worried.

So next time you

hear a burp in the bush,

just simply say:

“Gigglegum, shush!”

Beware the gigglegum bird by James Aitchison

Image from Pixabay

My clock’s cuckoo! by James Aitchison

Leave a comment

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