Tanka
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
First published in The Unidentified Flying Omelette, ed. Andrew Fusek Peters, Hodder & Stoughton
Tag Archives: poems for children
Fear by Vanda Lockyer
Leave a commentFear
Night skies flash
Windows groan
Parents clash
Dinosaurs roam
Shadows hover
Bear held tight
Under the covers
A fearful night
Vanda Lockyer
Too Late for Chocolate? by Celia Berrell
Leave a commentToo Late for Chocolate?
It’s best to say YES to sensible food.
Eat all our veggies
with meat well chewed.
It’s best to say YES to exercise.
It helps keep us fit
and also wise.
It’s best to say YES to a good night’s sleep.
With eight to ten hours
of dreaming deep.
BUT
It’s hard to say NO to late TV shows
with popcorn or ice-cream
or marshmallows.
SO …
You wouldn’t say YES, if handed a plate
of yummy baked cakes
or some sweet chocolate …
would you?
Celia Berrell
Celia said: When we’re tired, we are more likely to give in to temptations. Well that’s my excuse. What’s yours?
Self-controlled people have better lives – but for the rest, lack of willpower is more like physical fatigue than moral failure, says Roy F. Baumeister, professor of social psychology at Florida State University.
A Plea for Green by Jaz Stutley
Leave a commentA Plea for Green
Green are the hills for children:
a sunlit place of grasses,
dandelions and daisies;
as green as an apple, a fig,
an unripe fruit; the green
of memory and melody,
the scrubby bushy slopes
for exploration; tall trees
to climb, parks to run through.
Screens are not green
or sunlit; the blue wild
winds do not blow there –
a static buzz bends
the mind in dark rooms.
This is my plea for green.
Jaz Stutley
Time Travel by Julie Cahill
Leave a commentTime Travel
The train left the station-
clickerty clack
the wheels gained motion-
clickerty clack
we then passed paddocks
of bones and dust
broken tractors, covered in rust
The train didn’t notice-
clickerty clack
but we did, with the notion
The train rambled on- clickerty clack
I nodded off- clickerty clack
And dreamt of the life
centuries before
of ladies’ long dresses
dusting the floor
The train didn’t notice-
clickerty clack
and my bonnet, shielded mine eyes
The train pulled into the station
C . L . I . C . K . E . R . T . Y
I woke with a jolt
I grabbed my laptop
and mobile phone
that enables connection
while travellers roam
The train didn’t notice, clickerty clack
on its timeline, to the future
Julie Cahill
It was serendipity when Julie’s poem happened to turn up in my in box ahead of my ‘Travelling’ poetry prompt. It also slots in nicely with an earlier prompt.
Trim by Pat Simmons
Leave a commentTrim
I’m a black cat
A special cat
A ship’s cat.
I was born on the Reliance in 1799.
Of all my mother’s kittens
I was the one most fine.
I’m a black cat
A special cat
A ship’s cat.
I have four snow-white paws
And a white star on my chest.
Of all the cats on board this ship
The sailors like me best.
I’m a black cat
A special cat
A ship’s cat.
When it’s time for dinner
I don’t eat with other cats.
I sit at table with the men.
I don’t care for rats.
I’m a black cat
A special cat
A ship’s cat.
I have a trusty friend
And Matthew Flinders is his name.
He has called me Trim.
I think together we’ll find fame.
I’m a black cat
A special cat
A ship’s cat.
Matthew is a clever man
He’s sailed all round this land.
He’s given it a name
And that’s Australia – how grand.
Perhaps you have a cat at home
Is it as fine as me?
Would it like to come aboard
And sail upon the sea?
With a black cat
A special cat
A ship’s cat.
Pat Simmons
Pat said: ‘Trim’ is a special poem for me as it was the first poem I ever had published for which I was paid! Thank you Alphabet Soup which at that time was a magazine as well as a great online resource.
Flight of Fancy by Jenny Erlanger
Leave a commentFlight of fancy
I feel that my arms have been turned into wings
that I’m suddenly able to fly,
to glide through the air looking down on the things
that can only be viewed from the sky.
I’m up on that branch and I’m ready to go.
I can launch from my perch in a blink,
creating a distance from all that’s below
and without even having to think.
Of course I will never take off from a tree
but, although it may seem quite absurd,
I’m instantly weightless and totally free
when I chance to look up at a bird.
Jenny Erlanger
Jenny said: This poem developed as I walked the length of Hadrian’s Wall through the beautiful English countryside.
Australian Children’s Poetry 