Poem of the Day

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Yellow Jack

 

I have a pet canary,
I call him Yellow Jack.
He has white feathers on his wings
and yellow on his back.

I love my pet canary,
I feed him every day.
I put fresh seeds into his bowl;
he pecks them straight away.

My dearest pet canary,
I love to hear him sing.
He chirps and cheeps to me each day
and even more in spring.

My lovely pet canary,
I watch him day and night.
Today I watched him lay an egg.
Oops!
I think her name’s not right!

Kristin Martin

Poem of the Day

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If Clouds Were Beds

If clouds were beds then I would sleep
upon a cloud that’s soft and deep.
A cumulus cloud, that’s its name,
though as a name it’s rather lame
because it doesn’t make you think
of fluffy clouds in which you’d sink
into their white caressing sheets,
nor how you’d lie and dream of treats
or winning that important game,
so, bed-cloud is a better name.

If clouds were cars then I would race
a wispy cloud, high up near space.
A cirrus cloud is what they say-
that doesn’t seem a place to stay
behind the wheel and speed around
a track that’s high up off the ground.
I want a simple name that shows
a cloud that goes and goes and goes,
a cloud that’s fast and fun to use
so, car-cloud is the name I choose.

If clouds were homes then mine would be
one stretching far as you can see.
A stratus cloud is what it’s called,
but that name doesn’t say it’s sprawled
across the sky- a wide, flat field,
where there’d be ample space to build
a house, with rooms for everyone,
a garden where we’d play and run,
and even an enormous shed,
so, I call those home-clouds instead.

 

Kristin Martin

(Previously published in Orbit (The School Magazine), Issue 9, October 2016.)

Poem of the Day

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Crocodile at the beach

The seagulls squawk into the sky

Aark!               Aark!

Aark!               Aark!

Daisy barks behind my legs

Yip!      Yip!      Yip!

and Ben squeals

Eeeeeeeee!

when we see the

enormous

green

crocodile kite.

Kristin Martin

Poem of the Day

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Lucky

 

My class is so lucky.

This term we’re learning about life cycles,

so my teacher brought in some tadpoles-

three big black commas

swimming around in a plastic aquarium

right beside our desks.

 

We named them

Freddo,

Kermit

and Spot.

 

Freddo was the first to grow

stumps

legs

more legs

then his tail shrunk

until his body was a fat full stop.

 

‘But what do we do with our frog?’

asked Mrs Chugg with a frown.

My hand shot up quicker than a speeding mosquito.

‘I’ve got a pond!’

So, she poked some holes in a butter tub

and sent Freddo home with me.

‘Lucky duck,’ said Ben.

 

I carried my precious passenger

down the street

around the back

then knelt beside our weedy pond

and gently tipped him in.

 

Freddo swam to a lily pad

half scrambled on and gazed around

at the water

reeds

insects

and grassy bank

before frog-kicking into the murky depths.

 

Compared to Kermit and Spot

with their four plastic walls,

I’d say he’s pretty lucky.

Kristin Martin

Poem of the Day

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Last night

Last night I saw something that

I’d never seen before.

This something that I’d never seen

was right outside my door.

 

It made me gasp aloud with shock

the moment that I saw it.

The something was so big and red

I couldn’t dare ignore it.

 

I quickly jumped out of my bed,

tip-toed across the floor.

I had to know about this thing

I hadn’t seen before.

 

As soon as I crept close to it

my heart began to race.

I saw the thing was not a thing

because it had a face!

 

My body shook from head to toe,

my mind was full of fear.

There was someone that I’d never seen

and he was very near.

 

I stared in shock at his red coat,

his boots of blackest black.

I saw the pompom on his hat,

the bulging big red sack.

 

And then I had to laugh out loud.

You know why, I’m sure.

That someone was not scary at all.

It was Santa that I saw.

Kristin Martin
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #49

poetry-prompt-48

Poem of the Day

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Dogs

 

Some dogs are scary.
You have to be wary.

Some dogs are fat.
They could squash you flat.

Some dogs are tiny
and yappy and whiny.

Some dogs are old
and can’t do what they’re told.

Some dogs are jumpy.
They make me feel grumpy.

Some dogs are fast.
I just watch them run past.

Some dogs are busy
and rush round till they’re dizzy.

But my dog is great.
She’s my very best mate.

Kristin Martin

Poem of the Day

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My Greens

 

There’s a broccoli in my wardrobe

and a cucumber by my bed.

Something green was on my pillow

but now it’s green goo on my head.

 

There are lettuce leaves by my mirror,

some snow peas in my drawer,

and I think I saw a brussel sprout

lurking behind my door.

 

I don’t know what they’re up to

or what any of this means.

But if I want my bedroom to myself

I’d better eat my greens.

 

Kristin Martin
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #45

poetry-prompt-45

Meet the poet: Kristin Martin

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Kristin lives in Adelaide in a house sort-of-near the sea with her husband, two sons, three turtles, four goldfish, five spiny leaf insects and a canary named Stephen Fly. Her poems have appeared in Tadpoles in the Torrens (Wakefield Press, 2013), and in the magazines Blast Off and Orbit. Kristin’s adult poetry collection, Paint the Sky, will be published by Ginninderra Press later this year.

Today Kristin tells us about her love of poetry and shares a little about her writing process…

I love writing poems; that’s what makes me a poet. I wouldn’t write poems if I didn’t love doing it. If you love writing poems then you are a poet too.

Many of my poems come from things I see or hear that make me laugh, or make me stop and say, “Wow! Isn’t that amazing! I want to tell people about that!” But, just because I think something is funny or amazing, it doesn’t mean other people will too. So I have to show how amazing or funny it is. One way to do this is to make up a story, with interesting characters and a setting and a beginning, middle and an end. I insert the amazing thing I saw into the story, and I write the story as a poem.

A few years ago, when I was travelling around northern Australia with my family, I was amazed by all the places where we saw frogs. We saw a tiny frog on the mirror in the girls’ toilets at a caravan park. We saw an even tinier frog siting behind the cold-water tap on the sink. And we saw a huge frog hiding under the toilet seat. I wanted to tell people about all these amazing places you could find frogs, so I decided to write a frog poem. To make my poem more interesting I developed a story about a child who has lots of frogs in her (or his) house. I pretended I was the child, and I was up at night, creeping around my house with a torch looking for the frogs. Here is the poem I wrote.

 

A Night of Frogs

A frog lives in our garden
in a pond beneath the tree.
I hear it croak at bedtime
as it says ‘goodnight’ to me.

A frog lives by our back door
on a post below the light.
I sneak outside to say ‘hello’
because it’s only there at night.

A frog lives in our laundry
in the corner of the wall.
I check when I come back inside
to make sure it didn’t fall.

A frog lives in our kitchen
in the space behind the sink.
It freezes in the torchlight
when I get myself a drink.

A frog lives in our bathroom
and I don’t know what to do
because it isn’t where it should be.
Yuk! It’s swimming in the loo!

My mum comes in the bathroom,
plants a kiss upon my head.
‘The frogs are fine just where they are
but you should be in bed!’

I also like to play with rhymes. On the same trip to northern Australia I was sitting on the edge of a beautiful, warm spring, dangling my feet in the water and watching my children swim, when a woman walked up with a black, stocky dog. I wanted to jump up and ran away because the dog looked so scary. But I made myself stay, because the water was lovely and warm, and told myself to be wary of the dog, but not scared. Immediately I realised I had a rhyme: “Some dogs are scary, you have to be wary.” I loved that rhyme! Over the next few weeks I thought of other rhymes for dogs; tiny dogs and jumpy dogs and busy dogs. I wrote them all in my notebook, then chose my favourite rhymes and arranged them in the order that sounded best. But the poem wasn’t finished until I came up with the ending. A good ending is one of the most important things in a poem.

Dogs

 Some dogs are scary.
You have to be wary.

Some dogs are fat.
They could squash you flat.

Some dogs are tiny
and yappy and whiny.

Some dogs are old
and can’t do what they’re told.

Some dogs are jumpy.
They make me feel grumpy.

Some dogs are fast.
I just watch them run past.

Some dogs are busy
and rush round till they’re dizzy.

But my dog is great.
She’s my very best mate.

 

 

Poem of the Day

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Beach Treasure

We went for a walk,
just Nan, Pop and me,
and found lots of treasure
washed up by the sea.

Nan found a rock crab
alone on the sand.
It tickled and wriggled
around in my hand.

I found a treasure
beneath the sea grass;
a smooth-as-silk
wave-polished piece of green glass.

But Pop said his treasure
was the best you would see:
he crawled under the jetty
and there he found me!

Kristin Martin

Poem of the Day

2 Comments

A Night of Frogs

 

A frog lives in our garden
in a pond beneath the tree.
I hear it croak at bedtime
as it says ‘goodnight’ to me.

A frog lives by our back door
on a post below the light.
I sneak outside to say ‘hello’
because it’s only there at night.

A frog lives in our laundry
in the corner of the wall.
I check when I come back inside
to make sure it didn’t fall.

A frog lives in our kitchen
in the space behind the sink.
It freezes in the torchlight
when I get myself a drink.

A frog lives in our bathroom
and I don’t know what to do
because it isn’t where it should be.
Yuk! It’s swimming in the loo!

My mum comes in the bathroom,
plants a kiss upon my head.
‘The frogs are fine just where they are
but you should be in bed!’

Kristin Martin