The winter chill is here
I feel it on my ears
My hands like ice
Soft wool feels nice
My fleecy jacket keeps me toasty
My cheeks are growing rosy
I look like a pink teddy bear
I feel warm so I don’t care
Image created by Gemma Creegan
Tag Archives: poems for children
Choices by Andrew Plant
Leave a commentWhether we wills or
Whether we won’ts
Whether we dos or
Whether we don’ts
Whether we oughts or
Whether we on’ts
It all depends on choice
Whether we shalls or
Whether we shan’ts
Whether we cans or
Whether we can’ts
Whether we mights or
Whether we man’ts
It all depends on choice
Choice is rather marvelous gift
It offers a moment to make a shift
To think through or guess
To say no or yes
To do right or wrong
To be weak or strong
To be good or bad
To be calm or mad
Whether we wins or whether we loses
Depends in the end on how we chooses
Choices by Andrew Plant
Image from Pixabay
This poem is completely potty! by James Aitchison
Leave a commentWhere to put the pot?
Under the bed
or on your head?
Where to put the pot?
..
Where to put the pot?
Behind the door
or on the floor?
Where to put the pot?
…
Where to put the pot?
I haven’t a clue,
what can I do?
I haven’t got a pot!
This poem is completely potty! by James Aitchison
Image from Pixabay
World Laughter Day by Pauline Cleary
Leave a commentThere are games and pranks and jokes and larks.
There are funny looks and odd remarks,
comical lines and witty asides.
It’s always good to see the funny side.
A giggle, a snicker, a hoot, a guffaw –
these are the sounds we enjoy and applaud.
We fall about laughing; we roll in the aisle.
We double up, chortle, snigger and smile.
So, here’s to laughter; here’s to fun,
to witticisms, gags, jests and puns.
When things look grey and not too bright,
we can always look for the funny side.
World Laughter Day by Pauline Cleary
Image from Pixabay
Crazy Quasi-Liquid Layer by Celia Berrell
1 CommentLike ballerinas on blue ice
those skaters glide and pirouette
in perfect dance and balance – yet
to know skate’s science would be nice.
Don’t blunder with confusions such
as “ice melts under pressure”.
We’ve found a better measure
which explains why skaters slide so much.
From nought to minus two-hundred (°C)
a Quasi-Liquid Layer is found
on any water-ice around.
The thinnest, smoothest, slippery-spread!
Friction makes our fingers grip.
We’ll hold a biscuit with control
while ice-cubes fumble, drop and roll
because of crazy quasi-slip.
Crazy Quasi-Liquid Layer by Celia Berrell
Image from Pixabay
Bedtime (Nonet) by Linda Davidson
1 CommentTossing and turning, rolling around
Tomorrow’s worries on my mind
Reading my book then lights out
Silent prayers thought about
Pulling up covers
Snuggly and warm
Relaxing
Dreamy
Sleep
Bedtime by Linda Davidson
Image from Pixabay
The Swing is Mine by Sara Patricia Kelly
Leave a commentI climb the stairs and zip down the slide,
I’m racing round the playground.
Hanging from bars and jumping on rocks,
laughing so loud on the merry-go-round.
And when I get my turn on the swing,
I’ll never get off, not ever.
Not even if you promise me cake,
I’m going to swing forever!
The Swing is Mine by Sara Patricia Kelly
Image from Pixabay
Beware the gigglegum bird by James Aitchison
Leave a commentHigh in a tree
lived a gigglegum bird —
its noise was the weirdest
you ever heard.
When it was happy
it made a chirp
that sounded like
a thunderous burp.
It scared a crow,
it scared an owl,
it scared a cow
and made it howl.
Kangaroos heard it
and off they scurried,
platypuses were perplexed
while wombats worried.
So next time you
hear a burp in the bush,
just simply say:
“Gigglegum, shush!”
Beware the gigglegum bird by James Aitchison
Image from Pixabay
Friday night special (Nonet) by Jenny Erlanger
Leave a commentLifted from a vat of boiling oil,
they’re tossed onto a paper base,
lightly sprinkled now with salt,
with vinegar as well,
my weekend special,
a take-home treat
delicious,
golden
chips.
Friday night special by Jenny Erlanger
Image by Pixabay
Miss Tamara by Edwina Smith
Leave a commentInterviewer:
“Where nature takes its toll
the ground is cracked and dry,
folks are found far and few;
one need not wonder why.
In this wild wilderness
some creatures won’t survive.
Today I have a special guest
who’s very much alive”.
Interviewer:
“Thank you Miss Tamara
for taking time to talk.
I see your busy tongue
complete with fancy fork.”
Miss Tamara:
“Oh, it’s such a marvel
which serves me very well.
When I flick it as you see
that’s how snakes can smell.
There’s lots of different scents
I need to know about;
a nifty piece of kit
I couldn’t do without.
As for my fancy fork
so worthy of attention,
it helps me find my food
and works in three-dimension!”
Interviewer:
“It gets so very hot
and cold in winter too.
How do you survive out here
and stay as good as new?”
Miss Tamara:
“I hunt before the heat
becomes too much to bear,
then I seek some shade
a quiet, comfy lair.
Lots of cracks and burrows
have holes so cool and deep.
They shield me from the sun
and make a place to sleep
Come winter, I turn dark
and bask in sun by day.
Come summer, I turn light
so heat reflects away”.
Interviewer:
“There’s little here to eat
and if that’s the case,
where’s your favourite food
in such a lonely place?”
Miss Tamara:
“I can trace a scent
when I poke around,
checking holes and burrows
where native rats are found.
I know just where to look,
where a rat should be
and if I’m very clever
there’s one for lunch or tea!”
Interviewer:
“What about the venom?
There’s been a lot of hype
about its lethal strength,
with serpents of your type.”
Miss Tamara:
“I am totally toxic
as Inland Taipans are.
Way above the scale
most potent snake by far!
But I’d like to add
a word in my defence.
I am awfully shy
and have a lot of sense.“
Interviewer:
“We’ve had a lovely chat,
so far from anywhere.
Perhaps a parting thought
that you’d like to share?”
Miss Tamara:
“I’d rather slip away
to hide and dodge a fight
but if I’m teased or stirred
I will react and bite.
I’m not to be upset.
Do not torment or touch.
Just leave me on my way
and thank you very much!”
Interviewer:
“Without another word
she quickly slides away,
blending into wilderness
to face what comes her way.
The deadliest of snakes
but calm and very measured.
My talk with Miss Tamara
is something to be treasured.”
Miss Tamara by Edwina Smith
Image from Pixabay
Australian Children’s Poetry 