Question
Would you like
to say Hi
to a beetle?
A beetle would
like to say Hi
to you. . .
by Katherine Gallagher
Tag Archives: Katherine Gallagher
“Dinosaurs’ Breakfast Special” by Katherine Gallagher
Leave a commentDinosaurs’ Breakfast Special
Urns of slime
and reptiles’ heads,
giants’ feet
and mouldy breads.
Icy hearts
and mountain eggs,
a ton of tongues
and turtle-legs.
Frogs and beetles
chewed to gristle,
old pine cones
and spicy thistle.
Snake-flesh paste
and baby whales,
slowly simmering
heads and tails.
Blackfish eyes
and stingray skin
mixed and mixed
till slimy thin.
All gulped down
with spidery glue
which sleepy dinosaurs
forget to chew. . .
©Katherine Gallagher
“Broomfield Park” by Katherine Gallagher
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A moorhen busies herself,
rocks this way and that
on a wave-washed nest.
Swans float in late afternoon chill,
shadows lengthen,
chestnut buds swell.
Forsythia trembles the breeze –
pastel-green willows barely move
dipping branch-tips into the lake.
Every year I wait for this –
first flowers, trees leafing
on sculpted branches,
reflecting in the water
their steadfast
cascades of green.
©Katherine Gallagher
Poem of the Day
Leave a commentTanka
Last night, the full moon
hung like a papery lamp
over my quiet road.
I savoured the chilly sky –
the moon tagging my shadow.
Katherine Gallagher
- Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #16
(first published in The Unidentified Flying Omelette, ed. Andrew Fusek Peters, Hodder & Stoughton)
Poem of the Day
Leave a commentWheels Song
I don’t know why I’ve got feet
when I could have had wheels,
for wheels go so much faster.
Imagine me flying down our street
not in my trainers or boots
but on wheels, with my ghetto-blaster.
Imagine people turning to stare
and all telling me to slow down
before I caused a disaster.
Imagine me gliding off into space
with a quick little nod to the Moon,
then simply going straight past her. . .
© Katherine Gallagher
(Published in Through a Window, Longman, 1995)
- Submitted in Response to 2016 Poetry Prompt #42
Poem of the Day
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Mal Kennington Malone
Mal Kennington Malone
wasn’t good at games.
His classmates always laughed
and called him names:
dumb-chum, drophead,
you silly billy shark –
biggest flapfingers
in Bladestone Park.
I think I’ll try running –
I know I’m not bad.
I could really show ’em,
he told his Dad.
He trained and trained
around an old dirt track;
he trained every day,
ran to school and back.
He trained and trained
and ran like a hare,
even trained when it rained,
racing everywhere.
When sportsday came,
he was first off the mark,
became the fastest winner
in Bladestone Park.
© Katherine Gallagher
- Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4
Poem of the Day
Leave a commentMoonwatch
We’re studying the moon –
drawing it, remembering all the moons
we’ve ever seen.
Just now, through the window,
there’s a daylight-moon looking fragile,
egg-shell soft, pale white.
I’ve no plans to go up there
whizzing through the blue,
landing on the pearly moon.
But I can’t stop thinking
about a blood-orange full moon
I saw inching up
into the summery sky.
It moved so slowly,
became a golden balloon
that never hurried.
I wanted to follow it,
catch it. But I never did.
© Katherine Gallagher
(Published in Read Me, (Macmillan, 2009, ed. Gaby Morgan)
- Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #3
Poem of the Day
Leave a commentSilly Shifts
All traffic jams jump questions.
No one can lose a dog in a hurry.
Therefore every day has a shape.
All fires have a starting-point.
There is only one sky.
Therefore clouds like to move a lot.
All squares have four corners.
Fish rarely swim in circles.
Therefore the ocean may look flat.
© Katherine Gallagher
- Submitted in response to Prompt #46
Katherine said: Silly Shifts is a response to randomness – good old fun.
Bluster . . .
Australian Children’s Poetry 