Bear
big black
bear be brave
because being beary blue
becomes
beary big
bounce your blues
back beyond Burke
big black
beautiful
bear
bounce brightly back
bubblegum
blowing bubbles
big bubblegum bubble
biggest bubble bursting – BANG!
boo-hoo boo-hoo boo-hoo boo-hoo boo-hoo.
Bubbles
Bursting Beautifully
Beyond Blue Bays
Blown By Balmy Breezes
Is it a bee without a buzz?
It could be a bee with all that fuzz.
But then its wings stick-out too far
and all six legs have got no hair.
You want to know the reason why?
Because it is a bee-sized fly!
They seem to wear their bee-costumes
and pollinate the same bee-blooms.
Their females are a bee’s worst pest
and lay their eggs in real-bee nests.
To be a bee-fly small or large
it helps to be bee-camouflaged.
Celia said: This poem isn’t about bees. Honest!
Bombyliidae (Bee Flies)
Bee flies are large, fat, and hairy, often with a long, rigid proboscis. They are excellent mimics of bees, and may have black and yellow stripes along the abdomen. The adults are avid seekers of nectar from various flowers, although a few species feed on pollen. They are important pollinators, and can reach the nectaries of many wildflowers that are inaccessible to other flies. Their larvae are brood parasites on various species of bees and wasps.
I found a box
I saw ‘inside’
though what’s inside
I could not see.
Without a doubt
it’s inside out –
outside ‘inside’
just stares at me.
Perhaps ‘inside’
should be inside,
and ‘outside’ shown
externally
But no, ‘inside’
was outside wrote –
What’s ‘writ’ inside
perplexes me.
When Dad’s at the seashore,
This bit he likes best:
After all the swimming,
Take a well-earned rest.
Once lunch is completed,
This is what he’ll choose:
Lying on his towel,
He will have a snooze.
Soaking up the sunshine,
Lying on the beach,
Seeking for a suntan,
Drink within his reach,j
How long he will lie there
None of us can guess.
Asked if he’s still snoozing
He just mumbles:”Yes”.
We return to swimming,
Wait for him to come,
When it doesn’t happen,
We send back our Mum.
Suddenly Mum wakes him:
“Dave, you’re getting hot!
You look like a lobster,
Lifted from the pot!”
Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #15
Monty says: “I considered calling the poem “Redback!”, but in order not to confuse, chose “The Snooze”. Although the poem ends as above, one or both the following verses may be added for didactic purposes.”
Dad forgot to sunscreen:
Didn’t slip, slop, slap;
Left his head uncovered:
Didn’t wear his cap.
Now his back is blistered,
Face is sore and red,
He will struggle sleeping
Even in his bed.
We all learnt a lesson
On the beach that day,
Sunshine is a blessing
When you want to play,
But the sun can hurt you,
If you don’t take care
Best to have protection
With you everywhere.
There’s a box
It just arrived
Especially for me
No one saw it arrive.
I wish I knew what was inside
It says ‘Only open if you dare’
I wonder what it could be?
It’s a complete mystery.
The outside gives no clues
The danger lies within
I run my fingers lightly across the top
It’s too late now
I signed for it at the door
It might send me flying into space
I can’t bear it anymore
I carefully untie the bow.
My eyes dare to peek inside
I smile with delight
For it’s something money can’t buy
A key to another world.
Dare I go inside…
tted in response to Poetry Prompt #30
What has my tummy got inside?
I often sit and wonder.
(Sometimes it makes the strangest noise,
like very angry thunder.)
Now, what did I eat for breakfast?
Not that much, as I recall.
Fried eggs, baked beans, and marmalade,
with hot porridge first of all.
And what about last night’s dinner?
That yummy seafood pasta —
With chocolate mousse to follow,
Now that might spell disaster!
And there’s something I’ve forgotten:
All those TV snacks last night —
Iced VoVos, Twisties, Jaffas —
Helped quell my appetite.
All the food that I’ve been eating
Has nowhere else to hide —
It’s all down in my tummy,
And I’d hate to see inside!
Touchy, feely
Touchy, feely
is it smooth or is it rough
Does it feel soft when you touch it
is it ragged, is it rough.
Touchy, feely
Touchy, feely
is it blunt or is it sharp
does it soothe you when you touch it
Does it make your fingers smart?
Touchy, feely
Touchy, feely
is it new or is it old
does it warm you when you feel it
Does it make your fingers cold?
Touchy, feely
Touchy, feely
Is it slimy like a frog?
No, it’s furry and its cuddly
It’s a brand new puppy dog.
Australian Children’s Poetry 