Tag Archives: James Aitchison

Message from Mr. Ostrich by James Aitchison

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“It’s wrong!  It’s wrong!”

the ostrich said.

“I never, never

bury my head!

If I did

how could I see?

You mustn’t believe

such things about me.”

Teacher’s note: Ostriches do not bury their heads in the sand.  When trouble approaches, they lie low and press their long necks to the ground.  Mostly, ostriches escape danger by running at up to 72 km/h.  The world’s heaviest bird, they are also the world’s largest, fastest flightless bird, capable of killing predators such as lions and humans with a kick.

Goose On The Loose by James Aitchison

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Hey, hey, the goose got away,

down the street

on its two webbed feet!

“Honk, honk! Out of my way

I want to do my shopping today!”

(Teacher’s note: Apart from flock, what other collective nouns apply to geese? It all depends where they are.  Geese on the ground are a gaggle, or if they are flying, a skein, a trip or a team.  If flying in formation, they’re a wedge.  Geese flying close together are a plump.  Some other choices: a chevron, a nide, a lag, a sord, and the poet’s favourite, a christmas of geese!)

Mortimer Frog by James Aitchison

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Mortimer Frog lived down by the creek, 

Down by the creek he lived.

And he croaked by the creek,

Croak, croak, croak,

Down by the creek he croaked.

The Pillow That Couldn’t Sleep by James Aitchison

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There once was a pillow

that couldn’t sleep,

not even when

it counted sheep. 

It stared at the ceiling

all through the night,

until over the sill

came dawn’s bright light.

A Murder of Crows by James Aitchison

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I saw a tree

full of crows,

crows in rows,

rows and rows. 

How many crows? 

Heaven knows!

(Teacher’s note: The collective term for a group of crows is a murder, a horde, a hover, a mob, a parcel, a parliament, even a storytelling of crows.)

The Desert Oak by James Aitchison

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They stand in desert heat and chill,

Needles drooping as in sleep,

Millions of them resting still

Upon the vast red plain.

Invincible, their roots run deep,

And after fire they grow again.

In response to TREES Prompt

The Shetland Pony by James Aitchison

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I’d love a Shetland pony, 

not too high but low.

What a gentle ride he’d be,

not too fast but slow.

I’d love a Shetland pony,

the colour of a bear.

But how does he see where to go

through all that long, long hair?

(Teacher’s note: Shetland ponies originated in the Shetland Isles, located northeast of mainland Scotland.  They are very hardy and have survived the harsh Shetland climate since the Bronze Age.)

Tree Hugging by James Aitchison

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Hold me, hold me, hold me tight,

I get frightened in the night

by those birds and possums too,

I feel safe when I’m with you!

In My Dreams: a nonsense poem by James Aitchison

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When I go to sleep at night,

I dream of lots of things.

Blue spaghetti and bowls of fruit,

A four-legged man playing a flute,

A buffalo with purple wings,

A refrigerator taking flight.

That’s why I like to stay awake

And think of triple-layered cake.

I Found A Whale by James Aitchison

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(in response to Prompt #4)

I found a whale

made of stone,

sitting by the creek

all alone.

How it got there

I don’t know;

stuck on shore,

nowhere to go.

Teacher’s note:  Whale Rock is one of many rock formations at Wilson’s Promontory National Park.