Poem of the Day

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Sir Isaac Newton’s Laws of Motion


Newton was a clever man.

An avid scientific fan.

He questioned many things he saw.

Like ones we had no answers for.


He thought them through right to their cores.

Then gave us many handy laws.


Newton’s First Law Of Motion:

Without a force of push or pull

an object will remain quite still.

With just one push at just one time

that object moves in one straight line.


Newton’s Second Law Of Motion:

A bigger Force accelerates

an object that is heavy-weight.

While objects of a smaller mass

don’t need much Force to move them fast.


So Newton noticed they obey

that Force will equal m times a.


Newton’s Third Law Of Motion:

Now bend a stick. Before it cracks

you’ll feel its force of pushing back.

For every action there will be

an equal one – opposingly.


Without his formulas in place

we’d soon get lost in outer space.

So Isaac’s Laws help us traverse

the reaches of our universe.

Celia Berrell
  • Submitted in response to Prompt #23

Celia said: Things need to move in order to travel. First published in 1687, Newton’s Three Laws of Motion were a scientific breakthrough for which he is very famous. These laws are still used today to calculate such things as the orbits of moons, planets and stars. And they’ll be very handy if you travel to Mars – a few decades from now!

Poem of the Day

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Over the fence and

along the dirt track,

weaving through bushes

without looking back.

Three brave young explorers

and Foster the dog

went out hunting tadpoles

went out hunting frogs


With nets and glass bottles,

their tools of the trade,

down to the water

their way the three made.

These hardy explorers

and Foster the dog

were searching for tadpoles,

were searching for frogs.


Scooping up water

and netting their prize –

a bottle of tadpoles,

one frog with big eyes.

So armed with their tadpoles

And one big eyed frog

Home went the explorers

with Foster the dog.

© Allan Cropper
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #31

Poem of the Day

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Springing To Action


Sprr-r-r-ring is such an active word.

You can hear it gathering-up its force.

Ready to burst out a kind of ping.

Releasing its energy on a course.


It’s the name we give to the season when

all living things gear-up to abound.

We use it to label a water source

that’s pushing its way through the spongy ground.


It’s also the name we give a device

that bends and moves but will not crack.

It’s often metallic and flexible.

If it’s pushed or pulled it does the same back.


A spring isn’t always a coiled-up wire.

It could be a curve or a V-shaped bend.

Like a bow that shoots arrows through the air.

Or a pair of tweezers with open ends.


A spring can be made from a plastic mould.

A blister, a mound or a curvy dome.

They’re hidden in keyboards for typing things.

And once were used on an old mobile phone.


A pen you can click. A used paperclip.

A clock that goes tick. A peg that can grip.

A doorknob that twists. A bike-bell that rings.

It’s likely they’ve all got some kind of sprr-r-r-ring!

Celia Berrell
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #34

Celia said: Many Australians seem to have an easy-going approach to life.  Is this reflected in the way we say words like “spring”?  Other cultures and languages speak in a more animated way than us.  Can you “roll your r’s” like the Italian and Spanish people do?  Or gargle your “r’s” like the French?  How do you make the word “spring” really spring?

Poem of the Day


Fields in Flood

For weeks now the wind has been keening,

cascading its tears into creeks

sobbing small streams into torrents,

the torrents now springing small leaks.


Around us the rivers are rising,

wet-fisted they break sodden banks,

huddling the sheep in their paddocks,

drowning the grass round their shanks.


Floodwaters bury the highway

choking the freight and the fields

and pelicans thunder the sky-way,

casting their rods and their reels.

Alys Jackson

Alys said: I wrote this poem after visiting NSW recently and hearing about the devastating floods that cut off the Newell Highway. The farmer I spoke to told me that hundreds of pelicans appeared from nowhere to feed on the fish in the floodwaters.

Poem of the Day

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Be brave!

Be brave because . . .

Be brave because boldness . . .

Be brave because boldness brings . . .

Be brave because boldness brings benefits.

Be brave because boldness brings bigger benefits!


Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #29

Poem of the Day

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An Album of Yesterdays

I caught a piece of yesterday

to share with you today.

It’s clinging to a memory

of how we laugh and play.


I know that piece of yesterday

will never go astray.

It’s squashed inside a heavy book.

That’s where it’s going to stay.


Tomorrow, when I’m old and grey

I’ll still remember yesterday

and how we used to play and laugh.

Because … I have our photograph!

Celia Berrell
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #32

Celia said: Personal pictures and photos have an almost magical connection with our memories and emotions.  And some become more precious as the Yesterdays slip by!  Do you treasure your analogue or digital album of Yesterdays?

Poem of the Day

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Yesterday we had bacon and eggs for breakfast

Today was Coco Pops

Yesterday we had an apple for morning tea

Today was fairy floss

Yesterday we had pumpkin soup for lunch

Today was hot chips

Yesterday we had Greek yogurt for an afternoon snack

Today was a Mars Bar

Yesterday we had a roast chicken dinner with veggies

Today was a Happy Meal from McDonald’s

Yesterday we had homemade apple pie for dessert

Today was a chocolate donut

Yesterday we watched the footy with carrot sticks and dip

Today we watched with a big bucket of popcorn

Yesterday my mum was home all day

Today my dad was in charge of food

I wonder what we will eat tomorrow?

 Jeanie Axton
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #32

Poem of the Day



 I am 72 today,


In Grade Two

The Hobyahs came to stay.

They came through the gloomy gullies

Creep, creep, creeping.

They came through the grey gum-trees

Run, run, running.

They came into my dreams

Skip, skip, skipping.

The Little Old Man

Cut off Little Dog Dingo’s tail

And Little Dog Dingo’s legs

And Little Dog Dingo’s head

To stop Little Dog Dingo barking.

To frighten the Hobyahs away

The Little Old Man

Hid under the bed

When the Hobyahs took

The Little Old Woman away.

The Little Old Man

Was very sorry.

He took Dingo’s tail and his legs and his head

And gave them back to Little Dog Dingo.

Little Dog Dingo saved the Little Old Woman

Little Dog Dingo ate up every one of the Hobyah’s

I am not so sure

There are no Hobyahs now

Even now

Now I am 72.

See for yourself.



Robyn Youl
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #32

Poem of the Day

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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!


 James Aitchison
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #30