Poem of the Day


Polite Pause



floating commas in

the tidal way of things,

eyes bulging the full stop

as the net drops.


We complain

sweet morsels are

a pain to peel,

much like meaning in

conversation over dinner.


Just don’t forget

to take the rubbish out.


Dead prawns like tide and time

wait only for

the exclamation mark.


  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #25

Poem of the Day



We’re studying the moon –

drawing it, remembering all the moons

we’ve ever seen.


Just now, through the window,

there’s a daylight-moon looking fragile,

egg-shell soft, pale white.


I’ve no plans to go up there

whizzing through the  blue,

landing on the pearly moon.


But I can’t stop thinking

about a blood-orange full moon

I saw inching up


into the summery sky.

It moved so slowly,

became a golden balloon


that never hurried.

I wanted to follow it,

catch it. But I never did.


© Katherine Gallagher


(Published in Read Me, (Macmillan, 2009, ed. Gaby Morgan)

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #3



Poem of the Day

Leave a comment


The artist saw a landscape;

It inspired him to paint.


The poet saw her painting;

It inspired him to write.

The musician read the words,

And wrote a melody to match.


The dancer heard the song,

And it inspired them to dance!

Lynelle Kendall

Poem of the Day

Leave a comment

Sweet Treats


Here’s a list of special treats I’m sure you’d love to eat.

You might want to add some more to make the list complete:


Marvellous marshmallows, yielding and chewy;

Soft-centred chocolates, so creamy and gooey;

Fabulous fairy floss, wispy and sticky,

(Keeping your face clean’s especially tricky!);

Honeycomb crunchy and boiled lollies brittle:

None of this easy to stop at a little.


Yes, truly this sweet stuff is lovely to taste,

But too much is bound to add weight to your waist.

There’s one further warning: I’ll keep it quite brief.

Make sure that you never stop cleaning your teeth!

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4


Author Comment: Connecting texture with food provided the belated inspiration for this poem, with sweets in particular of great interest to children (and not a few adults).

Poem of the Day



Strike away the days

By Sioban Timmer


Strike away the days

In strokes sharp and purposeful

Cut them down like old growth forest

The calendar boxes, the tree rings of our lives

With each slashing mark of pen to page

Screaming out the passing time

Strike away the year

Remove the tired dog eared pages

Cast aside events and tasks of yesterday

Carefully raise and hang the New Year high

Crisp and clean like the dove and olive branch

A new beginning in each blank square.


  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #14

Poetry Prompt 14


Poem of the Day



by Anne Bell

Past houses,trees and grazing sheep,

I race and rock and sway

and I say to the track of strong, firm steel

that likes the sound of a hurrying wheel,

I’ll soon be back,

be back,

be back.

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #13.


Author comment:  Goodness gracious me…this was first published in The School Magaz Circa Yonks AD when that journal was edited by Lilith Norman and still in black and white mode.

Poem of the Day

Leave a comment

Imagining the Life of an Earwig

by Helen Hagemann


Leave a door open long enough

and an earwig will enter. The kitchen

is the most popular to travel in.

Among insects a decision is made

(those of different species)

not to touch or pass by in the hallway.

An ant and earwig might come together

and part, safe in the knowledge

that when one leaves another arrives.

It’s the past meeting the future


Whichever direction an earwig goes,

it will be one fast step

from the swish of a dog’s tail,

or the pounce of a cat’s paw.

Outdoors, earwigs forage in drains, leaf litter.

They love the chemistry of winter air,

the heavy crash of rain, a blue sky when it stops.

Sometimes you find an earwig sleeping between

the sheets of the morning newspaper,

although a quick flap or roll

over discarded scraps

can be fatal.

Poem of the Day


Blown Away

by Nadine Cranenburgh


I’ll tell you where I’ve been

I don’t think you’ll believe it

It started with a leaf

And me running to retrieve it


It fluttered through the rain

And over lots of puddles

So when I caught it up

I was soaked and in a muddle


It settled down at last

Upon a rotten jetty

I reached for it with hands

That were colder than a Yeti’s


That leaf was almost mine

I stretched out with a sigh

But then it blew away

To a dingy tied nearby


A sudden gale-force gust

Sent us sailing through the ocean

I clung on like a limpet

Feeling seasick from the motion


The wind dropped, I was lost

With no clue of north or south

Right then the leaf bobbed gently

Through a great whale’s gaping mouth


Surprisingly I followed

What else was there to do?

But leaves give whales an itchy throat

So skywards we both flew


I splashed into the sea

And heard a rotor spinning

A helicopter scooped

Another ride beginning!


I madly treaded water

Determined not to drown

We flew above a fire

And the helo tipped us down


I landed fairly softly

Upon a smoky shore

Close by the burned-out jetty

Where the dingy was before


A seagull grabbed the leaf

Flapped through the ashes squawking

My leaf was gone for good

So back home I started walking


That’s why I’m late for tea

It’s true, just like I said

What’s this, a leafy salad?

I might just go to bed.

Poem of the Day


How to Recognise a Poem (Your Own)

By Liana Joy Christensen 


You know

when you walk on a bush track at noon

the birds are hushed by heat

but down near your feet leaves rustle

and you smile to yourself

because another creature is near

it’s like that


You know

when you feel grumpy for days

nothing’s right and you don’t know why

then it shifts and fat drops of rain

kiss the dust on the pavement

the air is alive with possibilities

just before the water roars down

it’s like that


You know

when you get an ear worm

three or more words together

that tease you so much

you can’t get them out of your head

Sometimes it lasts for years

it’s like that


You know

when you ride barefoot in winter

and your feet slip off the pedals

and you stub your toes

the pain takes your breath away

it’s like that


You know

when your old best friend tells

their new best friend

your deepest, secret shame

and now everyone knows

Then, a universe away,

the cold coal of rage

becomes a diamond rhyme

it’s like that


You know

when you wake up from a dream

so luminous you rush to catch it

and though it slips through your net of words

the moth dust left behind on the mesh

glows softly for years to come

it’s like that


You know it’s like that

You know it’s like that

You know it’s like that

don’t you?

(Originally published in the US by Cicada, Vol 14, no 3, 2011 and later republished in Fremantle Press Performance Poets, 2013)

Poem of the Day


Image courtesy of Rosemary Ratcliff at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Image courtesy of Rosemary Ratcliff at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Ocean Life

by Anna Jacobson


We scrabble over sun

warmed rocks and peer into

rock pools. Small crabs scuttle

sideways, sea anemones wave

and we climb on further- feet slip

in rubber thongs and we glimpse

a squishy sea cucumber, silkworm

soft. In another pool lies a blue starfish.

We race to the ocean to cool our skin,

water so clear we see a large bream flick

its tail and swim off into the depths.