I can, I can’t, the difference is
One tiny little letter
‘won’t use the “T”, or I will be
Worse off, instead of better
But if I say “I can, I can”
My confidence will soar
And hope will come my way because
I opened up its door
“I can, I can!” will make me brave
My thinking it will change
And pocketsful of obstacles
Will vanish down the drain!
And if I cultivate “I can”
“I can’t” will sound so weird
And soon I’ll wonder where they went
Those things that I once feared
Progression
She showed it
to her slavedriver
who saw the possibilities
He promoted slave Hannah
to supervise
the sawing team
Before,
hundreds pulled the immense stone block
on its log rollers
A team of twenty waited at the back
to grasp the log-load
when it had been run over
The back log had to be
hauled to the front
to be run over yet again
If only the stone could stay still
on the logs while they kept rolling
Clearly impossible. Hannah scowled
But a slice of log sawn from one end
would roll the same way
With a hole in the middle
supporting – well we’d call it an axle
and a second round piece from the log
On her model it worked perfectly
Wheels! Wooden wheels!
The first cart
Wheelbarrows, trains, cars, trucks
cogs, pulleys, clocks, machines
Life on earth would never be the same.
Virginia Lowe
When the humans were asleep
In nightgowns and nightcaps,
The midnight rat would creep inside
And feast upon their scraps.
The midnight rat was crafty,
The midnight rat was sly,
He’d always slink in shadows,
Unseen by human eyes.
But there was someone watching,
With eyes that gleamed in black,
The midnight rat could see him:
The cunning household cat.
The midnight rat was agile,
And cautious, quick and smart,
That cat could never catch the rat,
When the house was clothed in dark.
So the cat approached politely
And he bent down very low.
“Oh rapturous rat I love your work,
I do admire you so.
“But I would make a suggestion,
If I could be so bold.
A king like you should never dine
On scraps so soggy and cold.
“The humans have cake in the daytime,
And bread and scones and pies,
There’s so much good food in the daytime,
You wouldn’t believe your eyes.
“The only thing you really need,
Ask anyone who steals,
If you are going to make a getaway –
Is a brand new set of wheels.”
The rat told him to keep away
And ran off with his loot,
But then he started pondering
As he chewed on soggy fruit.
He was the Midnight Rat!
The cleverest rat by far!
It would be a snap for him
To build a speedy car.
And build away he did,
Though you may find it surprising,
The rat had made that car
By the time the sun was rising.
And he could smell the breakfast
And he didn’t stop to think,
The car whizzed straight inside
Faster than a blink.
And what a tale of glory!
What a momentous day,
The rat snatched a delectable haul
And was making his getaway.
But outside the car slowed
And the cat caught him with ease…
Instead of using tyres,
He had used four wheels of cheese.
As he watched them melting on the road
The rat knew we was done,
His greatest foe was not the cat
But that infernal sun.
The cat smiled a wicked grin,
“I never thought of that!
I think my favourite meal might be
Grilled cheese à la rat.”
Green
Our fast green car
Green world
Stomach churning
Head spinning
Spinning
The world turning
Upside down
Downside up
Around and around
Wheels rolling
Streets passing
Blurred buildings
Blurred faces
Blur blur blur
Ur…
Dad, stop!
I’m going to throw …
Too late.
The animals have hairy fur.
The birds have got their feathers.
These keep their bodies warm enough
throughout the chilly weather.
The fibres in those fluffy coats
criss-cross to form some air-holes
that can’t escape or waft away
because of all the hair-folds.
Their skin gives off some body-warmth.
Just like a radiator.
Their fluffy coats help keep that heat
as thermal insulators.
The warm air’s trapped inside the fur
to shield them from the outside.
The way that blankets on a bed
are cosy on the inside.
But if that fluffy coat gets wet
those air-holes fill with water.
Their body’s warmth escapes as that
wet coat’s a heat conductor.
The soggy fur clings to their skin.
No longer insulated.
And water makes their body cold
as it’s evaporated.
Any fluffy animal will
shake that water well away.
So if your puppy’s had a swim …
Watch-out for all that water spray!
A Goat Afloat
I wear a silver collar, I’m a rather special goat.
Hooves firmly planted on the ground, but once I was afloat.
‘A goat afloat?’ I hear you say.
It’s true. Ask Captain Cook.
Twice I’ve sailed around the world.
I’d like to write a book
Called
Memoirs of my life at sea
Jottings by a goat
The good the bad the ugly facts
Of life upon a boat.
Well, all right, ships,
Let’s get it right
Named
Dolphin and Endeavour
And with respect, I must say this,
I really hope I never set hoof again on either one.
Three years was long enough.
Giving milk for all that time quite frankly dears was tough.
Smelly sheep and smelly hens, smelly cattle too,
Smelly cats and smelly dogs
And very smelly crew.
Snow and storms and slippery decks, fresh grass in short supply.
No other goats for company to help the time pass by.
But now I’m home and quite well known
(My story’s in the press)
Enjoying my retirement, free from stormy seas and stress.
I wear a silver collar, I’m a rather special goat.
Hooves firmly planted on the ground, but once I was afloat.
Vertebrates are covered
In spikes, feathers and scales
Most mammals wear fur
Skin covers humans and whales
With skeletons covered
In scaled skins.
Fish breathe under water
And glide with their fins.
With skeleton covered
In thick armored plates
Eyes and nose above water
The crocodile waits
With skeleton covered
In skin soft and cool
Tadpoles become frogs
In creek, river and pool.
With hollow skeletons
And fragile feather
Birds swoop and soar
In flocks together
With skeletons covered
In thick fur or fine hair
Bats, seals and elephants
Share earth water and air
There’s a paddling of ducklings in my lake
And a purr of pussycats half awake
There’s a trembling of finches on my lawn
And a purr of pussycats stretch and yawn
There’s a troubling of hummingbirds in my blossom
And a purr of pussycats playing possum
There’s a pitying of turtledoves cooing to their mate
And a purr of pussycats rubbing on the gate
There’s a quarrel of sparrows busy with their fight
And a purr of pussycats keeping out of sight
There’s a peep of chickens and a bevy of quails
And a purr of pussycats wagging their tails
But then, in the sky, is a murder of crows
And a prickle of pussycats hide in the rose
Once a waddling goose and gander
On a search for something grander
Left their farmyard to meander
Down a stream.
Now the goose was named Cassandra
And the gander, Alexander,
With a new home by the water
As their dream.
They had found the farmyard boring
With the crows’ incessant cawing
And the sleepy dogs all snoring
Through the day.
While the river looked appealing
And it gave the pair a feeling
In their new home by the water
They would stay.
But the farmer had been boasting
Of the geese he planned on roasting
At a dinner he was hosting
For his friend.
So he searched in haste to catch them
And he speedily despatched them.
Thus the dreamers by the river
Met their end.
Compared to fur or human hair
feathers are a smart affair.
As down, their fluffy unzipped form
of under-feathers, keeps birds warm.
But barbs and barbules, shaft and quill
hide clues to how birds fly with skill.
Their contour feathers, zipped and long
make wafting wings so light yet strong.
From dowdy mums to vivid males
with crazy crests and splendid tails;
for camouflage or bright display
feathers have lots of roles to play.
First published in Double Helix (September 2015)
Reproduced with permission of CSIRO
www.doublehelix.csiro.au
Australian Children’s Poetry 