Poem of the Day

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Three Trips Down the River

 

I  – A  Bed Time Story

Rainforest children fall

Into green dreams

Visions

Embracing nature’s eyes

Releasing their love for salmon.

 

II-  Night Time Wishing

Releasing time

In my heart for

Visions of night fishing with Poppy

Evenings of searching for the perfect spot

Remembering our smiles at my first catch.

 

III –  The Franklin

Revealing wild rivers

In the journeys they inspire

Visions for tourist and visitors

Entranced by nature’s eyes

Recipes are made for protective renewal.

June Perkins

June said: I wanted to work with the idea of three ways to think about the river: Prompt #19.

Poem of the Day

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Sunshine

 

Swaddle me in sunshine

sang the fairy child.

Weave me into forest,

tell me you have smiled.

 

Dance me tales of blossoms.

Look carefully for my signs.

Swaddle me in sunshine,

Now climb the magic vines.

 

Breathe me into spring time.

Search for the unseen.

Swaddle me in sunshine.

Cover trees in green

 

Swaddle me in sunshine,

when winter’s on her way.

Find for me some shelter

to keep the cold at bay.

June Perkins
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #15

June said: Today the muse visited – with that sunshine topic. Perhaps it was the approach of winter and a memory of my mum trying to convince me that fairies exist.

 

Art Class by June Perkins

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 For Vincent Van Gough’s  ‘The  Starry,  Starry Night’

 

Outlines crash into swirls

Miss Del Amico asks, what do you see?

Is that a sky of blue curls?

Outlines crash into swirls

Time to dive for some pearls

Will I find this painting’s key?

Outlines crash into swirls

Miss Del Amico asks, what do you see ?

 

 

Poem of the Day

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Outback Afternoon

 

The breeze coaxes

the windows open:

 

Windows as large as doors;

Windows as small as Nana’s china blue

dinner plates;

 

Windows of rainbow coloured glass

covered with trees and angels;

 

Windows frosted, so you can’t see through them,

textured and light grey.

 

The breeze beckons the windows open

creak

squeak

knock, knock.

 

The breeze doesn’t care if they are latched

lifted,

or pushed out

as long as

they open.

 

The breeze remembers when

windows had no glass

and were just open squares in

the walls and there was no air conditioning.

 

 

The breeze knows that some windows

are so clean and clear

that when they are closed

clueless birds fly into them.

Splat!

 

Whoosh!  Ha, ha!

The breeze chuckles its cooling fresh breath

through open windows

into the outback houses

wishing for the end of summer.

 

© June Perkins
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #6

poetry-prompt-6

The Caterpillar’s Song by June Perkins

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caterpillarsongimustwaitfortransformation

 

 

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #5

poetry-prompt-5June said: I liked that the photograph prompt had creatures on it and it inspired me to think of what it must be like for a caterpillar to change its mode of transport when it transforms. I placed this poem over a photograph of a butterfly. I wanted something about the right length so the photograph and words could balance.  It is fun making poem/photograph creations. For playfulness I spelt the word travel out at the end of each line.

I took this photograph at the Botanical Gardens.

As for the last line, my teenage son recently was studying a Dylan Thomas poem so I thought it would be fun to echo some of the lines.

‘Do not go gently into that good night.’

Poem of the Day

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First Day

 

Are you ready for a big tomorrow

listening, leap frogging,

growing learning’s wings?

 

Are you ready for a big tomorrow

singing, seeking friends,  perhaps

learning not to cling?

 

Will you notice as

your tomorrows become todays

patterned by

the daily school bell rings?

 

Will you find each day might

have a surprise

like a snake catcher visiting with

super thin snake skin?

 

Are you ready for a big tomorrow

As your school journey begins?

 

June Perkins

Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

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June said: With ‘First Day’ I started with the idea of a ‘big tomorrow’, and thought about yesterday, today, tomorrow, routines and surprises.

I also remembered a time when my son had a snake catcher visit his school and so the poem was born.