This Man About Town

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THIS MAN ABOUT TOWN

In an urban residence
Lurks that animal of leisure
Barks work is for peasants
Life is for pleasure.

A beautiful Border Collie
A good working breed
Sneers chasing sheep a folly
No way to get a feed.

Always complacent
And so very smug
The most perfect mate
To cut a rug.

Always so immaculate
So very well attired
Ready for a dinner date
Whenever required.

So pay for his food
For the man about town
Don’t ever be rude
Or bother to frown.

And his fans are all sighing
As the scandal breaks
And rumours are flying
Jagger’s actions are fakes.

Such lovely brown eyes
Swearing cupboard love
Not very wise
To believe the above.

Are you paying his board
And never judgemental
About what you can afford
Always so sentimental.

Charming and flirtatious
Our expert Romeo
So obliging and gracious
A well fed gigolo.

oooOooo

©
Margaret Pearce

 

 

 

 

JEREMY JAMES JOHNSON with Teacher Notes

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JEREMY JAMES JOHNSON

Jeremy James Johnson was a very naughty boy.
Fatty fried junk foods were all that he’d enjoy.

Now Jeremy had a little dog, his name was Mut
He sat under the table, his mouth never shut.

Mut liked cauliflour, carrots and celery stewed,
He ate every scrap because he just liked food.

So Jeremy was able to show a plate scraped clean,
And demand two helpings of chocolate ice cream.

He got away with this for month after month,
Jeremy got thinner and Mut strong and plump.

Jeremy looked at Mut who shared his day,
And saw how fast he ran around to play.

“Mut’s not tired and runs faster than me.
Why does he still have so much energy?’

His father with glee got to Jeremy at last.
“Mut eats all his vegies that’s why he’s fast.”

Jeremy James Johnson is now very very good.
He eats all his vegies as every child should.

And fatty fried foods make him feel very sick
Because Jeremy is now on a fitness kick.

©
Margaret Pearce

 

Teacher Notes: by Jeanie Axton

1. First of all this poem leads to discussions about food choices for both humans and dogs. This could lead to creating menus for both, covering all the food groups. Here are a few links “Australian Standards” for us and advise on food for our doggy friends.

Click to access n55i_australian_guide_to_healthy_eating.pdf

https://iheartdogs.com/12-healthiest-human-foods-for-dogs/

Secondly
The 16th is Chinese New Year and the theme this year is “Year of the Dog”

2. There are a myriad of discussion points ranging from why and how the Chinese celebrate their new year through to their influences on Australian culture.
Well worth discussing the way they were treated when they came over for the gold rush .
Here is a link that would be suitable for secondary students

3. You could for Junior Primary or Primary students set up a book display in your classroom of dog books. One of my all time favourites is “Walter the Farting Dog” It is very funny.
You could set up a display of photos of the students dogs.
And maybe even get them to write poems about their dogs. If you get them to write poems please send me a few and I’ll put them on the blog.
If your really brave you could have a bring in your Dog day.
Have fun it’s a great theme.

A BIRD UNIQUE

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A BIRD UNIQUE
Hoo hoo hoo, and he haw hay

laughed the Kooka on his way.

 

After him the Magpies chased

winging past in reckless haste.

 

What was it that the Kooka heard

to cause the Magpies get so stirred?

 

An ornithologist rushed to meet

a Magpie walking on two sore feet.

 

‘I’m scared to fly,’ the Magpie wailed

‘They laughed at me because I failed.’

 

He then limped on, a bird unique,

an unhappy agoraphobic freak.

 

oooOooo

 

©

Margaret Pearce,

MARLA

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MARLA

 

Leaving her mother

Abandonment.

Those big brown eyes

Enchantment.

That cute black nose

Blandishment.

Those watchful ears

Confident.

Untrained, unlearned

Impudent.

Too young for hygiene

Impenitent.

Puddles in carpet

Incontinent.

Midnight throwing up

Embarrassment.

Sharpening new teeth

Belligerent.

Loving all the world

Exuberant.

Everyone loves her

Benevolent.

Yelled out disasters

Embarrassment.

Much too young for

Chastisement.

Sixteen months for

Acknowledgement.

And promises of future

Accomplishment.

Or dreadful threat

Punishment.

 

©

Margaret Pearce

Poem of the Day

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SPLODGE

Splodge was a kitten who was all alone,

Without a family and without a home.

 

Everyone said as they kicked him away

‘No one ever wants a skinny little stray.’

 

Splodge was sad because they were right,

A skinny little stray is not a welcome sight.

 

To find a nice home as a cute little cat

It was important to eat and get very fat.

 

He hunted birds with a gleam in his eye,

But alas poor Splodge never learned to fly.

 

He searched the garbage for something to munch,

But the alley cats had eaten everything for lunch.

 

The fishes in the pond looked yummy to eat,

But Splodge only caught four very wet feet.

 

He shook and shivered in a dreadful storm

And dreamed of being well fed and warm.

 

The rain kept dripping on his poor wet head,

And deep was the puddle of his very cold bed.

 

He climbed into a nest big enough for a cat,

Welcomed by two ravens as tasty drowned rat.

 

Splodge escaped by dropping to the ground,

Cats eat birds, not the other way around.

 

He sneaked into a kennel, just until he dried,

Along came a dog and bit him till he cried.

 

Searching for a home, Splodge begged at every door,

Up and over back fences until his paws were sore.

 

But everyone said as they kicked him away

‘No one ever wants a skinny little stray.’

 

One special day, a gentle voice said,

‘Be welcome, Puss. Come and get fed.’

 

Splodge was very scared and turned to run,

‘Do stay,’ begged the voice. ‘Cats are such fun.’

 

When he was offered a large bowl of meat,

Splodge remembered how he loved to eat.

 

He was so hungry that he gobbled and gobbled,

He ate and ate until his tummy wobbled.

 

He groomed his whiskers and washed his face,

And kept on eating at a much slower pace.

 

Splodge now has a home to call his own,

And someone to love so he’s no longer alone.

 

Contented at last and now very fat,

Splodge is the cat that sits on the mat.

Margaret Pearce

Poem of the Day

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RIVER

 

Running to school one cold wet day

Into dreams of escape and running away

Visiting islands full of sea and sun

Enjoying swimming and lots of fun

Returned to reality dark and grey.

 

Required homework not done yet

Idiot me never a teacher’s pet

Very hard to get past this disaster

Explaining why I can’t work faster

Rewriting forever the homework set.

 

Margaret Pearce

 

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #19

Poem of the Day

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MY NANNA’S BAG

 

My Nanna’s arrival is a delight to see

But she’s only staying for afternoon tea.

 

She carries her coat and her umbrella furled

And the most exciting bag in the world.

 

She stands us in line for our hugs and kisses

And tells us how much she enjoys her visits.

 

After that she opens her bulging bag wide,

And out comes what she has packed inside.

 

First a chocolate cake for afternoon tea,

Liquorice and jelly beans for baby and me.

 

Then two jumpers, one blue and one pink,

One to wash and one to wear she says with a wink.

 

Out come some beads, a ball and two bats,

A doll and a pram and two calico cats.

 

Six pairs of crawlers made from old bedspreads,

And knitted striped beanies for everyone’s heads.

 

There’s a hammer and nails to mend the side fence,

Dad says now that’s a gift with plenty of sense.

 

Out comes a scooter and a skippy rope too,

And a most beautiful set of drums, brand new.

 

A bright crocheted rug to go on the bed,

Be lovely and warm, my mother said.

 

After the crayons, paints and a big picture book,

Nanna stopped delving so I had a good look.

 

Five peppermints and a half knitted sock remained

Nanna’s wonderful bag was empty and drained.

 

The grownups drank tea and ate most of the cake

Only smears and crumbs remained on that plate.

 

Nanna stood us in line for more hugs and kisses

And we all said how much we enjoyed her visits.

 

My Nanna took her coat and her umbrella furled,

And left with the emptiest bag in the world.

 

My Nanna’s departure was a very sad sight,

But she’ll be back to babysit Saturday night.

 

 

© Margaret Pearce

 

Poem of the Day

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THE KOALA AND THE CROCODILE

 

Ko-Ko Koala was a spoilt little brat.

He wouldn’t eat vegies in case he got fat.

‘Brussel sprouts and cabbage belong in the bin,

Lemonade and fudge keeps me nice and thin.’

 

‘Chicken and chips and hamburgers fried,

And chocolate donuts with cream inside

Taste much better for a Koala about town

Bush food is stodgy,’ he said with a frown.

 

His friends all got very very cross,

Bush food is filling but isn’t very posh.

Until there visited a crocodile

Jaws wide open in a hungry smile.

 

The little Koala was suddenly left,

Nobody liked the company he kept.

Ko-Ko wished the crocodile very far away,

But the crocodile stayed to talk of takeaway.

 

‘Bags of chips and popcorn for tea,

Plenty to eat if you dine with me.

If only you would come down nearer,

Our friendship could be so much dearer.’

 

The days went by, Ko-Ko got thin and wan,

Dreaming of takeaway meals long gone.

Getting very hungry so high off the ground,

He started eating gum leaves and grew very round

 

The crocodile still waited his eyes full of greed.

And kept renewing his invitation to feed.

‘There’s pineapple on pav with cream between,

And ice creams with flavours you’ve never seen.’

 

‘A diet of ice cream and potato chips fried,

Will give me tummy ache,’ scared Ko-Ko replied.

The crocodile sighed and at last lost his smile,

And decided to slink off home for a while.

 

And this is why the crocodile’s tears of grief

Are at the Koala’s love for the Eucalyptus leaf.

And for takeaway food Ko-Ko will never roam.

He finds plenty to eat in his tree top home.

Margaret Pearce

 

Poem of the Day

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MY GRAN’S PLACE

 

My Gran’s place is an unchanging one

And I always visit when horridly glum.

She doesn’t go in for changing trends

Of fashion, hairdo’s or marital friends.

 

Everything’s the same, as long as I’ve known

The clock in the hall, the old fashioned phone.

She opens her door with a welcoming smile

And says ‘Hello love, come in for a while.’

 

Mum’s moved to a flat, small but not cosy,

Door to door concrete, and neighbours nosy.

No bike riding, skateboarding or making a noise

Pets not allowed, and they hate little boys.

 

Sometimes I go to stay with Dad

but after a while I start to feel mad.

A fresh new start, my stepmother said

And threw everything out, even my bed.

 

The kitchen’s never messy with cooking,

Everything’s tidy and modern looking.

The back verandah is now a study,

With nowhere to leave anything muddy.

 

Gran’s furniture’s shabby, and I like it a lot,

A smoking wood stove, and soup in the pot.

The broken down stool in my favourite nook

The bookshelf that has my very first book.

 

An expensive video game sits at home,

But it doesn’t compensate for nights alone.

Dad takes me fishing and for drives galore

(He never acted like this before!)

 

My Gran’s world is warm and friendly,

Nothing there is ever trendy.

I love to visit when feeling blue,

And pretend that my world’s unchanging too.

 

Margaret Pearce

Previous published in House of Sprouts (OUP 1988) and Positive Words (May 2008)

 

Poem of the Day

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THE ECHIDNA

An echidna passed across a track

heading towards a special snack.

 

A naturalist muttered, ‘What a turn!

about this creature, I’ve got to learn.’

 

He kneeled to take a closer look

the echidna swung with strong right hook.

 

And it was such a heavy clout

it nearly knocked the watcher out.

 

The echidna curled into a prickly ball

snarling, ‘I don’t like you at all.’

 

The naturalist cried and mused upon

what it was that he’d done wrong.

 

He only wanted to see first hand

the weirdest creature in the land.

 

The echidna uncurled and stalked away

grumbling at his ruined day.

 

And idiots too dumb to know

you always let echidnas go –

 

About their business digging holes

and eating ants from salad bowls.

 

Or snuffling around a great big mound

Where tasty termites are always found.

 

To spare echnida watchers’ pain,

the moral of this tale is plain.

 

Always remember it’s very rude

to keep echidnas from their food.

 

Margaret Pearce