We’ll run down swiftly to the beach
and jump into the sea,
where rolling waves will cool us down —
we’ll stay till half past three!
But when it’s time to pack and go,
you’ll hear us groaning then —
climbing up all those steps
will make us hot again!
Tag Archives: James Aitchison
Artificial Intelligence by James Aitchison
Leave a commentIt’s all the rage,
the latest thing,
artificial intelligence.
But I don’t care,
because for me
it hasn’t any relevance!
My intelligence
is very real,
and lives inside my brain.
It’s not artificial,
and that’s official,
and it works again and again!
Photo from Pexels.com by Tara Winstead
My Fun House by James Aitchison
2 CommentsOne day I’m going to build a house
with cheery yellow candy.
I’ll put ice creams on the roof,
and fruit gums nice and handy.
Then I’ll add two cup cakes,
with lollypops galore,
liquorice allsorts in the corners,
and chocolates by the door.
Teacher’s note: This house can be found in the storybook corner of the Hunter Valley Gardens, Pokolbin.
The Good Emu by James Aitchison
Leave a commentThis emu is fine,
obeying the sign,
doing no more than forty.
To run any faster
could spell disaster
and would be very naughty.
Teacher’s note: This photo was captured near Wilsons Promontory where many emus roam in the wild.
The Shipwreck Coast by James Aitchison
Leave a commentSend me your ships, your schooners,
and my rocks and reefs will take them.
Send me some seven hundred,
and howling wrecks I will make them.
Give me stormy nights and surging tides,
give me captains who lack in skill,
and I will show you shipwrecks
that no other coastline will.
Teacher’s note: By day, the coast appears calm and safe. But Victoria’s treacherous, storm-tossed 130-kilometre Shipwreck Coast, from Cape Otway to Port Fairy, has claimed around 700 vessels.
The Mountains of Mourne by James Aitchison
Leave a commentIn County Down,
there’s no brighter green,
and the peaks and valleys
are a sight to be seen.
‘Tis old Ireland they sing of
when bleak winter falls,
and by firesides the heart of
Ireland still calls.
And when storms the crags
of the mountains have crossed,
they tell of great battles
forgotten or lost.
Izzy The Moodle by James Aitchison
Leave a commentClose your eyes and picture a dog:
A Maltese terrier crossed with a poodle.
She’s a lovely dog is Izzy,
And she’s proud to be a moodle.
Moodles have oodles of energy,
And they’re always very busy.
They run in circles everywhere
And never ever get dizzy —
(CRASH)
— like Izzy!
A Typical Aussie Morning by James Aitchison
Leave a commentIt’s morning in the valley,
the air is crisp and sweet,
the irrigation’s on
before the noonday heat.
The cows are grazing quietly
the day’s work has begun,
across Australian farms
a living must be won.
Teacher’s note: This morning scene was captured at Moyhu in Victoria’s King Valley.
A Futile Armistice: 11.11.1918 by James Aitchison
Leave a commentFor five years across the fields
Brutal shells crashed down.
Destruction claimed a savage cost
In every ruined town.
Lethal waves of metal rained,
Stole eight million men.
And when the guns fell silent
They said, “No war again!”
But the hearts of men are dark,
War runs through their veins.
It seems that peace is fragile
Compared with wartime’s aims.
In response to November prompt Remembrance Day
Teacher’s note: When the First World War ended on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day, 1918, everyone called it “the war to end all wars”. Using this poem, students can discuss why wars break out and how we can avoid them in future.
What The Driver Saw by James Aitchison
Leave a commentAboard an old steam loco,
many years ago,
the driver and the fireman
worked by the firebox glow.
They stood upon the footplate,
wood layered over steel,
where the engine driver could
control the loco’s wheels.
The fireman shovelled coal —
he had no time to dream —
heating water in the boiler
to keep up lots of steam.
Australian Children’s Poetry 