Betty’s hair
I once knew a girl called Betty
Whose hair looked just like spaghetti.
She tied it in strands
With big rubber bands,
Then chopped it up for confetti.
James Aitchison
Tag Archives: James Aitchison
Armpit by James Aitchison
Leave a commentArmpit
Armpit, armpit,
Look at you!
You’re so hollow —
What to do!
You like to sweat
And grow hair,
No wonder you’re
Hiding there!
James Aitchison
About James: “My poetry plans for 2018: write more children’s poems, experiment with new forms and themes, and build up a collection for a book.”
‘Living Spagetti’ by James Aitchison
Leave a commentLiving spaghetti
Wriggle wriggle, squirm squirm,
Here comes a nice long worm.
Like spaghetti come to life,
What a busy earthworm!
Watch it slide and slither,
Oops, it’s in a dither.
Pick it up now if you dare,
Dangle it in the air.
Wriggle wriggle, squirm squirm,
Thank you, thank you, earthworm!
You let our soil grow good things,
Such a helpful earthworm!
James Aitchison
‘Living spaghetti’ by James Aitchison
Leave a commentLiving spaghetti
Wriggle wriggle, squirm squirm,
Here comes a nice long worm.
Like spaghetti come to life,
What a busy earthworm!
Watch it slide and slither,
Oops, it’s in a dither.
Pick it up now if you dare,
Dangle it in the air.
Wriggle wriggle, squirm squirm,
Thank you, thank you, earthworm!
You let our soil grow good things,
Such a helpful earthworm!
James Aitchison
Meghan Markle’s Mouse by James Aitchison
Leave a commentMEGHAN MARKLE’S MOUSE
My home is my castle — Windsor Castle —
And I live in St George’s Chapel;
Being a mouse I go foraging
for some crumbs and pieces of apple.
My chapel is mostly a peaceful place,
But no! Not on the nineteenth of May:
won’t have a moment to bless myself
when the world comes to visit that day.
They’re making history on May nineteen,
and there will be no time to tarry —
but I’ll have a front row seat to see
Meghan Markle marry Prince Harry!
I’ll hide underneath Her Majesty’s chair —
that should give me an excellent view —
and I’ll wave my tail and squeak hooray
when Meghan and Harry say I do!
A Clogyrnach by James Aitchison
Leave a commentA CLOGYRNACH GOES TO THE DENTIST
I went to the dentist last week;
he opened my mouth for a peek.
When he saw inside,
his eyes goggled wide.
What he spied
made him shriek.
The news he gave me was chilling,
“All of your front teeth need filling;
they’re full of decay,
I’ll fix them today!”
I said, “Yay! —
start drilling!”
He was deftly wielding his drill
when he sneezed as though he were ill!
He bored through my gum —
drilled into my bum —
“Sorry, chum,
here’s my bill.”
My time in his chair had been brief,
full of torture, terror and grief!
Let my teeth all fall —
no dentist I’d call!
After all —
who needs teeth?
–
James Aitchison
A CLOGYRNACH is a six-line Welsh poem with a rhyme scheme of aabbba.
- Lines 1 and 2 have eight syllables with an a rhyme;
- lines 3 and 4 have five syllables with a b rhyme;
- line 5 has three syllables with a b rhyme;
- line 6 has three syllables with an a rhyme.
Autumn by James Aitchison
Leave a commentAutumn
The heat of summer bleeds
from the trees.
Golden sunrises.
Orange afternoons.
Fiery sunsets.
Summer writes itself
on the trees,
Then tumbles onto the grass,
Tossed by the wind,
Claimed by the long, long winter.
James Aitchison
Medals, medals, medals by James Aitchison
Leave a commentMedals, medals, medals
Medals, medals, medals,
Australia’s won its share.
Medals, medals, medals,
We won them everywhere!
Medals, medals, medals,
Our athletes brought them home.
Medals, medals, medals,
From pool to velodrome.
Medals, medals, medals,
Our athletes did us proud,
Aussie, Aussie, Aussie,
Let’s shout it out so loud.
Medals, medals, medals,
We’ve won a tidy sum!
But if I had my way,
I’d give a Gold to Mum.
Words are Weird by James Aitchison
Leave a commentWords are weird
My shoe has a tongue
but can’t talk.
All it can do is walk.
My nose has a bridge
you can’t cross.
Which leaves me at a loss.
My eyes have pupils
you can’t teach.
What’s the purpose of each?
My ears have two drums
you can’t play.
What kind of drums are they?
What weird things words are —
they have too
many meanings by far!
Australian Children’s Poetry 