Garage Sale by Jill McDougall

Leave a comment

Fire! by Jill McDougall

Leave a comment

 Old Kangaroo and his mate Cockatoo

were travelling south

where the icy winds blew.

As night came around,

they found some flat ground

in the shade of a cave

where the river gums grew.

 

“It’s freezing down here,”

grumbled Old Kangaroo.

“But I’ll make a good fire

to warm us right through.

I’ve never seen trees

As enormous as these,

I’m sure I can find us a big log or two.”

 

So into the bush

Hopped Old Kangaroo,

Straight to the place

Where the biggest trees grew.

He was back in a while

With a humungous pile,

“This is great,” said his mate, “cos I’m shivering too.”

 

Then Old Kangaroo and his mate Cockatoo

fetched small sticks and big sticks

and old sticks and new.

They even took leaves

from the bushes and trees.

“This will soon warm our bones,” laughed the triumphant two.

 

As the fire came alive,

the old fellows threw

more branches, more logs,

and a giant tree or two.

Way up on high

they could see the sparks fly.

“I’m feeling much warmer,” said Old Kangaroo.

 

Then down from the ranges,

a little breeze blew,

and it whistled and whined

through the trees as it grew.

Soon everywhere

in the hot smoky air,

sparks from the roaring fire floated and flew.

 

“Now I’m … ouch! … much too hot,

complained Old Kangaroo,

“Well my feathers are melting,”

cried poor Cockatoo.

And as a fresh breeze

carried sparks to the trees,

the two silly friends were beginning to stew.

 

“Bushfire!” At last cried one of the two,

“Everything’s burning!

What are we to do?”

But try as they might,

it was too late to fight,

for feathers and fur were burning up too.

 

Yes, feathers and fur were burning up too –

Nothing was saved

as the fire roared through.

All the birds and the bees,

all the bushes and trees,

all the creatures that lived there,

had perished there too.

 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

 

Many years later, a young kangaroo,

was travelling south

with his mate Cockatoo.

They stopped at the scene

where the fire had been,

and decided to camp

where the river gums grew.

 

“I’m shaking with cold,”

said one of the two.

“Let’s have a fire

to warm us right through.

I’ll get some sticks,

and a few little bits.

We don’t need too much –

just a small fire will do.”

 

First published in Anna the Goanna, 2000

 

Fire by Jill McDougal

Leave a comment

Old Kangaroo and his mate Cockatoo

were travelling south

where the icy winds blew.

As night came around,

they found some flat ground

in the shade of a cave

where the river gums grew.

 

“It’s freezing down here,”

grumbled Old Kangaroo.

“But I’ll make a good fire

to warm us right through.

I’ve never seen trees

As enormous as these,

I’m sure I can find us a big log or two.”

 

So into the bush

Hopped Old Kangaroo,

Straight to the place

Where the biggest trees grew.

He was back in a while

With a humungous pile,

“This is great,” said his mate, “cos I’m shivering too.”

 

Then Old Kangaroo and his mate Cockatoo

fetched small sticks and big sticks

and old sticks and new.

They even took leaves

from the bushes and trees.

“This will soon warm our bones,” laughed the triumphant two.

 

As the fire came alive,

the old fellows threw

more branches, more logs,

and a giant tree or two.

Way up on high

they could see the sparks fly.

“I’m feeling much warmer,” said Old Kangaroo.

 

Then down from the ranges,

a little breeze blew,

and it whistled and whined

through the trees as it grew.

Soon everywhere

in the hot smoky air,

sparks from the roaring fire floated and flew.

 

“Now I’m … ouch! … much too hot,

complained Old Kangaroo,

“Well my feathers are melting,”

cried poor Cockatoo.

And as a fresh breeze

carried sparks to the trees,

the two silly friends were beginning to stew.

 

“Bushfire!” At last cried one of the two,

“Everything’s burning!

What are we to do?”

But try as they might,

it was too late to fight,

for feathers and fur were burning up too.

 

Yes, feathers and fur were burning up too –

Nothing was saved

as the fire roared through.

All the birds and the bees,

all the bushes and trees,

all the creatures that lived there,

had perished there too.

 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

 

Many years later, a young kangaroo,

was travelling south

with his mate Cockatoo.

They stopped at the scene

where the fire had been,

and decided to camp

where the river gums grew.

 

“I’m shaking with cold,”

said one of the two.

“Let’s have a fire

to warm us right through.

I’ll get some sticks,

and a few little bits.

We don’t need too much –

just a small fire will do.”

 

 

The Secret by Jill McDougall

Leave a comment

 

The Secret

 

Can you keep a secret? Good!

Cos this one’s super hot –

In my desk, amongst the mess,

I found a …. you-know-what.

 

Now promise you won’t tell a soul

Not even Mary-Lou,

I turned it round and then I found

A note from you-know-who.

 

I laughed so hard my tonsils ached

I thought I’d nearly die,

It must have happened you-know-when

Because of … you-know-why.

 

Now don’t you go and blab all this

To Rosie and her lot,

If you do, I’m warning you,

They’ll give us you-know-what.

 

Jill McDougall

    Poem of the Day

    Leave a comment

    Whiz Kids

     

    Kate’s the quickest in our class

    At working fractions out,

    Wayne’s a whiz at Mental Maths,

    He doesn’t mess about.

     

    Tran’s a turbo-jet on skates,

    But Polly owns the pool,

    She swims the 100 metres

    Like a fish on rocket fuel.

     

    Sam’s a super sprinter,

    Always first across the line,

    Jess is quick to say, “Well done,”

    And give the thumbs-up sign.

     

    Chen’s a champ at cleaning up,

    He empties every bin!

    Emmy’s quickest with a joke,

    And William’s quick to grin.

     

    Me? I’m the lazy, laid-back type,

    I like to take things slow,

    But when Ms Mark says, “Class dismissed,”

    Well, you should see me go!

     Jill McDougall

    Poem of the Day

    Leave a comment

    Charlie’s Lunch

     

    Oops!

    I’ve got my brother’s lunchbox

    With The Wiggles on the lid,

    He must have picked up mine instead

    (He’s just a little kid.)

    So Charlie’s got my health bar

    And my favourite yoghurt snack,

    And I’ve got little kiddie lunch –

    Too late to change it back.

    I could go and see the teacher,

    But she’ll say, “Don’t bother me,”

    I guess I’m stuck with Charlie’s lunch,

    I’ll be half starved by three.

     

    Here we go….what is this stuff?

    One tin of custard pears,

    Two egg and lettuce sandwiches

    Cut into tiny squares,

    Three cherry drops with jelly tops,

    Four skinny carrot sticks,

    Five cubes of watermelon, no,

    You’d better make that six.

    And right down at the bottom is-

    What’s this! A chocolate crunch!

    WOW!

    Where’s my place? I need some space,

    I’m having Charlie’s lunch.

     Jill McDougall
    • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

    poetry-prompt-4

    Poem of the Day

    Leave a comment

    Haughty cuisine

     

    Our special today is the ostrich mornay

    on a bed of wild Spanish weeds,

    drizzled with slivers of slow-roasted livers

    and garnished with shaved parsley seeds.

     

    Served on the side is an elephant hide

    in a parcel of puffed pastry wings,

    sprinkled with dew from the mists of Peru

    and finished with seared apron strings.

     

    What’s that you say? You don’t like mornay?

    And you’ll pass on the shaved parsley seeds?

    Can it be true that you’re not keen on dew?

    And you’ve never thought fondly weeds?

     

    Do we have WHAT? No, I’m sure we do not

    Have a single sausage or chip.

    But I suppose we could grill a beef tube from Brazil

    served with French strings and ocean-salt dip.

     

    Jill McDougall
    • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #45

    poetry-prompt-45

     

    Poem of the Day

    Leave a comment

    Summer

     

    The sun is warm, the fish are biting

    Snapper, squid and shoals of whiting

    Ice-cream jingles sound inviting –

    Summer’s on its way.

     

    The breeze is up, the current’s running

    Tourists bare their legs for sunning

    Seagulls stealing chips are cunning –

    Summer’s on its way.

     

    The sky is bright, the waves are rolling

    Zinc-nosed lifeguards are patrolling

    Cricket-crazy kids are bowling –

    Summer’s here  – let’s play!

    Jill McDougall
    • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #47

    poetry-prompt-47

    Poem of the Day

    Leave a comment

    Here come the Martians

    Here come the Martians, green as peas

    as my spacecraft lands in thick brown seas.

    They swamp my ship like some disease

    so I zap myself to the broccoli trees.

     

    As I grab my fork-shaped Ultra-Stun,

    the Martians squeak (in Martian) “Run!”

    They hide beneath a buttered bun

    but I take them prisoner one by one.

     

    I’m having super-cosmic fun

    when Humanoid Robot XP One

    drones: Earth to Mars – this is your mum

    do NOT play with your dinner son!

    Jill McDougall

    Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #45

    poetry-prompt-45

     

    Poem of the Day

    Leave a comment

    If

     

    If

    I was a pin

    I’d

    pull myself together.

     

    If

    I was a bulldozer

    I’d

    make the grade.

     

    If I was a roof

    I’d

    be on top of things.

     

    If

    I was a poem

    I’d

    be well-versed.

     

    If

    I was a dictionary

    I’d

    know the meaning of life.

     

    But

    I’m a house and

    I’m

    thick as a brick.

    Jill McDougall