I am an eagle now in flight,
my wings will lift me high,
above the crowded peaks
that claw into the sky.
I soar among the jagged crags,
they hold no fear for me;
this is the eagle’s kingdom,
and the eagle will be free.
Photo by James Aitchison
Tag Archives: James Aitchison
Myrtle’s Choir by James Aitchison
Leave a commentMyrtle McGuire
joined a choir,
because she thought
she could sing.
She sang soprano
near the piano,
and here’s the
terrible thing:
her voice was a shriek
that lacked technique,
and started a chain of disasters;
the glass windows shattered,
and what really mattered,
down from the roof
came the rafters.
Photo from Pexels by Andrea Piacquadio
Rushing River by James Aitchison
Leave a commentWhere are you going,
over those stones,
past those old cliffs,
the colour of bones.
Through ancient forests
you tumble and twist,
until at long last
you are lost in the mist.
Photo by James Aitchison
Lest We Forget: The Red Poppy by James Aitchison
Leave a commentThe countryside had once been green,
No tree or hedge can now be seen,
Came the war,
The cannons’ roar,
The fields reduced to mud and blood,
The deep cold craters fill and flood,
And suddenly, a miracle:
Red poppies grew as though to say
We will find peace again one day.
Teacher’s note: By the time the First World War ended, at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month 1918, a miracle had occurred. In the devastated fields of Flanders, the scene of horrific carnage, red poppies bloomed again. That is why the red poppy is the symbol of Remembrance Day.
Photo from Pexels by Elina Sazonova
Minuscule Madness by James Aitchison
1 CommentI’ve been collecting tiny things,
like frozen fleas and freckles,
and a book a centimetre long
written by a man named Eccles.
In a jar I have a nano newt,
and a full stop in another,
and a dingbat’s DNA
I’m saving for my brother.
Tiny footprints made by mice,
fingerprints of butterflies,
a spare hair from a busy hare,
and seeds I found in apple pies.
The only question really is,
what will I do with all this stuff?
I’ve got so many tiny things,
my room’s not big enough!
Photo from Pexels by srini
Scots Speak by James Aitchison
Leave a commentIf a day dawns wet and bleak,
the Scots would call it dreich.
If blue sky and sun they saw,
then they’d say it’s braw.
Someone sly is sleekit,
if foolish they are glaikit.
When you shoogle, you shake,
if you mak, you make.
Muckle is big,
howk means to dig.
When you keenie, you cry,
when you skelp, you rush by!
If you’re taking a peek,
you’re taking a keek.
When you’re cranky, you’re crabbit,
a wee beastie’s a rabbit.
Weesht means be quiet,
guid nicht is good night.
Your bahookie’s your bottom,
And yes, all Scots have got ’em.
Teacher’s note: “Dreich” has been voted by Scots as their favourite, most iconic Scots word.
Photo from Pexels by Pixabay
Self Esteem by James Aitchison
1 CommentSelf-esteem is not just words,
it is the heart of you;
knowing that you’re special,
there’s nothing you can’t do.
It means you have a value,
A very unique worth;
There’s no one else quite like you,
Anywhere on earth.
You are a whole lot stronger
when you have self-esteem.
No challenge will be too big,
you’ll always dare to dream.
Self-esteem is yours to have,
forget what others say!
You have a priceless value
every single day.
Image from Pexels by RDNE Stock project
Celebrating Ourselves! by James Aitchison
Leave a commentWe can’t be happy all the time,
sometimes we’ll be sad.
People aren’t always nice,
sometimes they’ll be bad.
Every day won’t be great,
life doesn’t work that way.
So remember all the good times
and you’ll be okay.
Most of all, don’t forget,
one thing is always true:
No one else will ever be
quite the same as you!
Image from Pexels by Alexander Grey
Preposterous Rhinoceros by James Aitchison
1 CommentYou know the word
preposterous
rhymes with
rhinoceros?
Now stress the
second syllable
and dial it up
a decibel:
prePOSterous
rhiNOCeros
Say it louder,
say it clear,
so the whole wide world
can hear:
prePOSterous
rhiNOCeros!
Thanks for joining in
our game;
your ears will never be
the same.
Photo from Pexels by Martyn Gomersall
The Purple Pizza Eater by James Aitchison
Leave a commentThe other day
I got a surprise —
at first I couldn’t
believe my eyes.
It came in a box
tied with string —
the biggest, weirdest
funniest thing.
It was a purple
pizza eater,
eating a
purple pizza!
Australian Children’s Poetry 