“A Letter from the Principal” by Pat Simmons

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Dear Mr. Smith and Mrs. Smith,

I’m writing you this letter

because your son’s behaviour

isn’t getting any better.

 

His writing is untidy and

his spelling is a worry.

He’s often late and consequently,

always in a hurry.

 

His recent science project

nearly caused a school disaster.

The explosion covered twenty boys

in clouds of ceiling plaster.

 

He’s been with us for twenty years,

or is it twenty two?

Dear Mr. Smith and Mrs. Smith,

just what are we to do?

 

He’s untidy and he’s silly

and he always acts the fool,

but still the students say he’s

the best teacher in our school.

“Blue Tongue Tales” by Pat Simmons

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Blue Tongue Tales

In a warm suburban garden the blue tongue lizards meet

to talk about the goings on up and down the street.

Other creatures listen, green tree frogs and snails.

Possums peek between the leaves to hear the blue tongue tales.

 

What about young Billy Blue Tongue? They say he’s running wild.

He won’t go hunting with his Dad. He is a lazy child.

He sneaks up to the humans’ house at number forty-four

and eats the cat’s food from its dish – yes right outside their door.

 

‘My Tim hangs out at thirty-seven,’ Mrs. Tree Frog said,

‘they play loud music which he loves. He just won’t come to bed.

He hip hops up and down their path, the silly little joker.

The problem is he wants to be a rapper, not a croaker.’

 

By now a crowd has gathered to join in the conversation.

‘Without a doubt our children are the Urban Generation,’

sighs Mrs. Barbara Bandicoot whose wayward daughter, Lou

has dug a deep and messy hole at number twenty-two.

 

In a warm suburban garden the blue tongue lizards meet

to talk about the goings on up and down the street.

Other creatures listen, green tree frogs and snails.

Possums peek between the leaves to hear the blue tongue tales.

“Choosing Shoes” by Pat Simmons

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Choosing Shoes

Gum boots when it’s raining

Sports shoes when I’m training

Sparkly shoes for dancing

Riding boots for prancing

Sandals for a summer’s day

High heeled shoes for dress up play

Then sadly comes that time of year

When Mum says, ‘Let’s go shopping dear.

Your feet keep growing, time to choose

A nice new pair of (yuk!) School Shoes.

 

“The Visit” by Pat Simmons

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The Visit

Cautiously, creeping down the stairs,

carefully avoiding the creaks,

we stop

and take each other’s hand.

At the bottom we tiptoe,

trembling,

towards the door.

Almost afraid to breathe

we slowly, gently, push it open.

Beneath the twinkling lights

sit the gifts.

‘He’s been,’ we whisper

‘He’s been.’