Opening presents by Jenny Erlanger

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We place our gift in Grandpa’s hands,

he’s having so much fun.

He reads his card and then he stands

and hugs us, one by one.

 

He says he’s feeling very proud,

he says we’re all so dear.

and then he reads his card out loud

so everyone can hear.

 

The ribbon’s lovingly untied

then folded in his lap.

The sticky tape is slowly pried

from every paper flap.

 

And now it’s time for us to start.

We can’t wait any more.

We rip our wrappings wide apart

and drop them to the floor.

 

Our fumbling fingers tug at strings

to get to what we need.

We open up our pile of things

at record-breaking speed.

 

The day slips by, it isn’t fair!

Why must it go so fast?

I wish I had my Grandpa’s flair

for making moments last!

Jenny Erlanger

 

Bush Tucker by Jenny Erlanger

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 I prise it from its woody nest,

examine it up close.

I never, ever would have guessed

a grub could look so gross!

 

It’s such an ugly, pudgy grub,

a truly horrid sight –

repulsive rolls of squishy flub

decked out in ghostly white.

 

The kookaburra up above

is getting itchy feet.

I know for sure she’d dearly love

to snaffle up this treat.

 

I’ll only have to turn around,

head back along the track,

and she’ll be swooping to the ground

to snatch her scrumptious snack.

 

The grub is wriggling back to bed

to tuck itself away.

The kookaburra cocks her head,

eyes fixed upon her prey.

 

No grub has ever hit my tum –

the notion makes me sick,

but Kookaburra’s thinking yum …

marshmallow on a stick!

 

Jenny Erlange

Polliwogs and Pobblebonks by Jenny Erlanger

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I could be quite mistaken

but I’m feeling pretty sure

that polliwog’s a word

you’ve never come across before.

And pobblebonk’s another,

with a funny kind of sound,

a word I’m also certain

you have never seen around.

They’re not a type of candy

or variety of fish.

They’re not exotic items

in some oriental dish.

They don’t have beaks or feathers

and they’re not a breed of dog.

A polliwog’s a tadpole

and a pobblebonk’s a frog.

The Way to Be by Jenny Erlanger

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Choose a comfy place to lie

beside your favourite tree.

Cast your eyes up to the sky

and cut your thinking free.

Watch the clouds that quietly drift

across a sheet of blue.

Savour this tremendous gift

from Nature straight to you.

 

Pay no heed to thought balloons,

release them one by one.

Fill your head instead with tunes

awakened by the sun –

chortles, whistles, trills and tweets,

a magpie’s sweet refrain,

Nature’s songs, melodic treats

to soothe a busy brain.

 

Feel the brush of breeze on skin

of gentle sun on face.

Shut your eyes and bask within

this moment’s soft embrace.

Relish feeling truly blessed,

relax beside your tree.

Give your mind a chance to rest.

It’s time to simply be.

 

Jenny Erlanger

An Hour of Fame by Jenny Erlanger

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I’m standing proudly centre stage,

I grab the microphone.

The love from all those avid fans

rains down on me alone.

I launch into my favourite song,

I belt out the refrain.

The crowds are screaming out for more.

I take the mike again.

I’m really pumped, I raise the pitch,

I give it all I’ve got.

I’ve never known such warm applause,

I’m feeling pretty hot

until my mother calls my name

and interrupts my song:

“Your sister needs the bathroom now.

You’ve been there way too long!”

 

B is for Boring by Jenny Erlanger

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B is for boring

A was for apple

and  B was for ball.

C was for something

I can’t quite recall,

maybe a carrot,

a cat or a comb,

but certainly something

you’d find round the home.

I love reading books

but I have to concede

that my first ever book

was so boring to read.

Jenny Erlanger

 

Interrogation Day by Jenny Erlanger

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Interrogation time

 

How will you travel, on foot or by train?

What if it’s cold, if it threatens to rain?

When are we likely to see you again?

Do you know when you’re going to be back?

 

I think that the tram and the bus would be good.

I’ll pack an umbrella and coat with a hood.

I’d give you a date if I thought that I could

but it might be a year down the track.

 

Won’t you be lonely with nowhere to stay?

When are you leaving, what time of the day?

Why are you planning on moving away?

Is everything really that bad?

 

I’m taking my toys. I’ll have plenty to do.

I’m banking on leaving the house around two.

And now that you ask, I’m escaping from you!

Your questions are driving me mad!

Jenny Erlanger

 

 

 

 

 

Flight of Fancy by Jenny Erlanger

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Flight of fancy

 

I feel that my arms have been turned into wings

that I’m suddenly able to fly,

to glide through the air looking down on the things

that can only be viewed from the sky.

 

I’m up on that branch and I’m ready to go.

I can launch from my perch in a blink,

creating a distance from all that’s below

and without even having to think.

 

Of course I will never take off from a tree

but, although it may seem quite absurd,

I’m instantly weightless and totally free

when I chance to look up at a bird.

 

Jenny Erlanger

Jenny said: This poem developed as I walked the length of Hadrian’s Wall through the beautiful English countryside.

 

One day … by Jenny Erlanger

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One day…

 

One day, as part of my ongoing plan

I’ll surf in Hawaii and ski in Japan.

I’ll hike in the Andes, I’ll cycle through Spain

I’ll jet round the world in my own private plane.

I’ll go on safari, see rhinos, gazelles.

I’ll hop off to Venice and ride its canals.

I’ll sit in a rocket and head for the stars,

I’ll travel to Jupiter, Saturn and Mars.

One day of mine will be truly unique

but what should I do for the rest of that week?

Jenny Erlanger