Found a Kite
If you should ever find a kite
And fly it in the air,
You’ll find it flying beautifully,
Flitting, soaring there;
The people staring will be awed
And think that it’s your kite;
Poets and lovers will all laugh
And smile at your kite’s sight.
And when it rains the kite will fall
And flounder to the ground,
And with a sigh you’ll leave at last
With that kite that you found.
Marc Low
I was sad.
I shed a single tear.
It lay before me but for a moment.
A warming sun and a drying wind beckoned it skyward
to join a million other teardrops in a cloud.
A million teardrops fell to earth,
and like a million teardrop broom
they swept away the fear and gloom,
and I was happy.
Allan Cropper
Drum Dreams
Don’t tell me I should tinkle on the piano’s ivory keys
And I don’t want to learn to make the tartan bagpipes wheeze.
I do not crave to pluck the harp with fingertips and thumbs,
But how I hope and dream that one day I can play the drums!
If only I could find the words to sway my mum and dad
From their idea that getting drums is bound to turn out bad.
They tell me they would cost too much. We wouldn’t have the space
Unless we relocated to a chockablock-less place.
My parents think I’d wake them up when they would rather snooze.
They’re confident the neighbours would completely blow their fuse.
No matter what I say to them, they will not change their tune:
It looks like I’m not getting drums at any moment soon.
The neighbours wouldn’t have to know; they wouldn’t hear a peep
And if we looked up Gumtree I bet we could get some cheap.
Concerning space, of course my room might end up in a squeeze
But I can sleep out in the hall. Oh, let me have them please.
Perhaps I need to close my eyes and strongly concentrate
So one day mum and dad decide to re-evaluate.
I try and try this strategy although it doesn’t work
For when I open up my eyes, my parents only smirk.
They ask me if I’m feeling sick ─ my face is rather pink─
And as I slowly turn away, I think I see them wink.
The night before my birthday I release a mournful sigh.
It might be better if I kiss the drums idea goodbye.
My birthday dawns and light seeps through the curtains in my room
While over in the corner something strange lurks in the gloom.
And as I stare, and stare some more, the ghostly shape becomes…
My own electric-foldaway-with-headphones set of drums!
Sharon Hammad
Hey you!
You’re looking at me like
you’ve got something to say –
Well OK then
I’m up for a chat,
a chitter, a chatter,
a yabber, a yak,
a tittle-tattle
jibber-jabber,
a yammering yap.
I’m open to suggestion
on topics for discussion
Let’s communicate, confabulate,
wag the chin and chew the fat.
Let’s prattle and babble,
let’s talk, talk, talk!
But first you’ve got to learn
how to screech, how to squawk –
so stretch out your neck,
now open your beak …
wait … what’s that?
You don’t have a beak?
Beg pardon, my mistake
for presuming you could speak!
Jane Williams
There’s beetroot on the ceiling,
down the walls and on the floor.
The dressing’s leaving patterns
that I’ve never seen before.
The nuts and pomegranate
fly like bullets through the air.
I’m stepping over mushrooms
and there’s lettuce in my hair.
My mother’s looking angry,
I’m in trouble, I can tell.
She said to toss the salad
and I’ve tossed it pretty well.
Jenny Erlanger
Small jars, tall jars, boxes too,
Zoe needs them for her zoo.
In the garden, in the sun
is where she finds Exhibit One.
A caterpillar munching leaves,
Zoe stoops, rolls up her sleeves
and carefully with finger tips
(just in case this critter nips)
places it inside a jar.
Pops on the lid.
He won’t get far.
Crouching in a damp dark spot,
armed with just a yogurt pot
she spots a tell-tale silver trail.
Exhibit Two, a friendly snail.
With trusty trowel she fills a jar
then doesn’t have to dig too far
before she spots a sudden squirm.
Exhibit Three, a wriggling worm.
Exhibit Four sits in a box,
wearing gloves and scarf and socks.
His cage says, ‘Dangerous Beware.
Please Don’t Feed This Teddy Bear.’
A tiny cubby made from sticks
houses numbers Five and Six.
A beetle and a millipede
curled up like a shiny bead.
Exhibit Seven’s tied to a tree.
He’s rather dangerous you see.
A dinosaur might stomp around
and squish those caged upon the ground.
She needs to find Exhibit Eight
who’s sitting calmly on the gate.
Zoe has to pull and tug
to capture this majestic slug.
Now who will be the final two
to join the gang at Zoe’s Zoo?
She has to build a great big pen
to house Exhibits Nine and Ten.
Her work is done.
She gives a shout.
‘Mum and Daddy, please come out.’
‘Gotcha!’
Pat Simmons
THE CARETAKERS
I went to the house,looking for a man to build a fence
knowing nothing of him,except that people said
he built good fences.
His garden warmed July’s cold hills,
but there was nobody there,
save a peacock,a scarecrow and a fine, grey mare.
I found nobody to build my fence,
but I think I’d like a man
who left his home to the care
of a peacock, a scarecrow and a fine, grey mare.
Anne Bell
First published in The School Magazine.
Though pirates get by
with a patch on one eye
their lives out at sea can be grim.
No wonder they’re mean,
all the pirates I’ve seen
have clearly been missing a limb.
I now understand
all those hooks for a hand,
the clumping around on a peg.
To fit out their ships
for those plundering trips
must cost them an arm and a leg!
Jenny Erlanger
Tell me a tale of treasure untold,
buccaneers’ bounty, jewels and gold.
Spin me a yarn of a hazardous quest,
until it is ended the hero won’t rest.
Share stories of dragon, damsel and knight,
princesses rescued from a grave plight;
of monsters, aliens, mystery and magic,
adventurous, exciting, funny or tragic.
Whisk me to markets jostled by crowds.
Trek me up mountains shrouded in clouds.
Spin me through space at heart-stopping speed.
Chase me through tunnels –where do they lead?
Sail me across oceans so vast and deep,
I cannot help wonder what secrets they keep.
Lead me to forests where birds nest on high –
Wind through the trees is a whispering sigh.
Such silence and splendour fills me with awe,
inspires me to whisper, please show me more
of far distant places where I’ve not yet been.
Draw open the curtains upon the next scene.
As I travel abroad without leaving home,
I’m scientist, pirate, astronaut, gnome,
crook, cop or detective solving a crime,
anyone, anywhere, freefalling in time.
Thrill me, delight me, chill me, excite me,
amaze me, intrigue me, above all invite me
to enter a world where anything goes,
created for me in wonderful prose.
Words are my passport, ideas the key
To unlock my fancy and let it roam free.
I turn the first page to open the door
into magical Bookworld, its realms to explore.
Teena Raffa-Mulligan
* This poem appears in Charms, Volume Three, edited by Sally Odgers. Charms is a collection of stories, poems and illustrations by a range of contributors. It is also a fantasy novel in three volumes. For more information about this and other Prints Charming projects visit www.printscharmingbooks.com
I can
Banana bend
Licorice twist
Jelly wibble wobble.
See me
Caterpillar creep
Snake slither
Deer dash and dart.
I am
Rock steady
Tree tall
River rush and flow.
Love this
Body mine
Body strong
This moving marvel.
Teena Raffa-Mulligan
* First published in School Magazine.
Australian Children’s Poetry 