I wonder where they come from,
I wonder where they go,
I wonder who might use them,
as they hurry to and fro.
Is a ghost abroad at night?
Does it haunt this secret place?
I can hear its shuffling feet,
but I cannot see its face!
So ancient are these steps,
So stony cold and bare,
In the heart of old Vienna,
By a bleak and wintry square.
These giant domes of rock
rise from the desert plain;
a rusting of iron oxide
gives them a reddish stain.
Six hundred million years ago
they were thrust up to the sky.
With many heads a-dreaming,
their legends will not die.
Teacher’s note: Kata Tjuta, which means “many heads” in the local Aboriginal language, is located 25 km from Uluru. Like Uluru, it is considered sacred to the Aboriginal people of Australia, and the mythology of the site is not disclosed to outsiders. The highest peak (at left) was named Mount Olga by explorer Ernest Giles in 1872.
I see the old men march,
who survived the times of war,
beneath their proud-held banners
from so many different corps.
I see bright companionship
shining in their eyes;
they’re marching to remember
those who fell and could not rise.
We salute them once again
and pray that never more
young men will have to go
a-marching into war.
Photo by Pixabay
They’re called PFAS and alas,
they’ll harm the world forever.
You can’t stop their damage,
not today, no — never!
They waterproof your clothes,
you wipe them on your chin,
they stop mum’s frypan sticking,
and the box your pizza’s in.
These chemicals are deadly
and never go away,
so why on earth do we use them
every single day?
Photo from Pexels by Akil Mazumder
Teacher’s note: PFAS (pronounced P-Fass) are known as Forever Chemicals — a large family of 10,000 chemicals that have been proved to persistently contaminate the earth. They are used in fire-fighting foam, food packaging, foundation cream, cosmetics, non-stick cookware, smartphones and waterproofing clothing. They contaminate drinking water, wildlife, and agriculture.
A valley in Wales
so green and clear,
no sign of the coal
mined near here.
A land of song,
where mining coal
destroyed its valleys
but not its soul.
Teacher’s note: Wales was once famous for its polluting coal mines. Today we celebrate great Welsh singers such as Dame Shirley Bassey, Charlotte Church, Katherine Jenkins, Bonnie Tyler (Gaynor Sullivan), Sir Tom Jones and Sir Bryn Terfel, actor Richard Burton and poet Dylan Thomas. The word “Eisteddfod” — a musical competition— is taken from the Welsh language which is still spoken.
Shoes always come in pairs,
but pears don’t come in shoes.
And I know that my nose knows
how to make ah-choooooos.
Whales don’t come from Wales,
is it rite or is it right?
And who can tell the difference
between quiet or quite?
Angle grinders not ankle grinders,
it’s so easy to make a slip—
because English is really funny
and tries to make you trip.
I dreamed one day I’d journey
over the sea to Skye,
and I did, on a modern ferry,
to where the crags reach high.
Like Bonnie Prince Charlie himself,
I had the hills to climb,
where songs and daring legends
were born in the mists of time.
I hear a hip and hop,
it’s very, very near,
and I know who it is —
he comes this time of year.
I’ve never ever seen him
as he hastens here and there;
the Easter Bunny’s hiding eggs
and he won’t tell us where.
He puts them under bushes,
and up in trees somewhere,
but my friends and I will find them
and we’ll have lots to share!
Photo by Alexas Fotos
Here is where I’d like to float,
in my very own white boat.
I’d slowly rock from side to side,
while sleeping on the gentle tide.
Sometimes I’d sail upstream in style,
and that would make life so worthwhile.
I’d catch some fish to cook each day,
and leave my troubles far away.
Teacher’s note: This poem could invite a class discussion about why people love their boats and rivers. What dreams do students have about a “dream” escape?
The waves roll in, cunning waves
and hungry;
the stone stacks wonder when
they too will fall.
Headlands brace themselves
against the wild tide,
and, in time, the ocean
will devour the shore.
Teacher’s note: The Twelve Apostles are limestone stacks off the shore near Port Campbell, Victoria. The harsh waves from the Southern Ocean slowly erode the soft limestone in the cliffs to form caves, which later become arches that eventually collapse leaving up to fifty-metre high stacks.
Australian Children’s Poetry 