Tag Archives: rhyming poems

Who Does What? by Toni Newell

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A wasp, a worm
Which one does squirm
I do believe
It is the worm!
A fly, a mosquito
Which one does buzz
I do believe
The mosquito does.
A cat, a dog
Which one meows
I do believe
It’s the cat somehow
A hen, a rooster
Which one does crow
I believe it’s the rooster
In his morning show.
A horse, a cow
Which one does moo
I do believe
That the cow must do.
A sheep, a goat
Which one does baa
I do believe
It’s the sheep by far.

We all do have
Our different voices
But human’s can
Mimic all the noises.

Who Does What? by Toni Newell

Image by Pixabay

My clock’s cuckoo! by James Aitchison

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Tick-tick-tick-tock,

says my clock.

Tock-tock-tock-tick,

it sounds really sick.

Tick-tick-tock-tick,

is it running slow or quick?

Tock-tick-tick-tock,

what a silly clock! 

My clock’s cuckoo! by James Aitchison

Image by Pixabay

Devilish Billy Joe by Toni Newell

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Billy Joe is my best friend
Wears a collar, has four legs,
Follows me consistently
If there’s food he often begs.
We live in leafy Doncaster
In a small two-bedroom home
And because I have to work a lot
Billy Joe’s often left alone.
Whilst I’m away at the office
He has the run of the house
And often creates havoc
He’s not as quiet as a mouse.
The neighbours are not happy
When he barks and carries on
But there’s very little I can do
When working on the phone.
His devilish disposition
Gets him into lots of strife
By causing so much damage
Which he’s done all his short life.
So how can I fix this problem
I ask with nought in mind
What can I do to stop him
And a happy solution find.
But then I think of something
Should I find him a friend
Which would keep him occupied
And his destructiveness end.

I put my masterplan in action
Bring home Archer, a puppy
It appears that what I’ve done
Has made Billy Joe very happy.
They seem to get along quite well
And spend their time in play
Until they’re both exhausted
Crash on the couch and stay.
Archer has become
Billy Joe’s best friend
Bringing him home has been
A victory to this end.

Devilish Billy Joe by Toni Newell

Image by Pixabay

A Long Way to the End of the Pool by Rachael Koch

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Today’s the day, our carnival.
We’ll race across the pool.
The sun is beating down on us
but the water will be cool.

I’m in my brand new swimming shorts.
I’ve got my goggles ready.
Imagine gold upon my chest!
My nerves are holding steady.

I line up at the starting blocks
with Ali, Sam and Tim.
I’m ready for the siren’s sound,
if only I could swim!  

A Long Way to the End of the Pool by Rachael Koch

Image by Pexels

Gorgeous! by James Aitchison

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Not a sound, not a ripple,

as we whisper our way

between sandstone walls —

ten metres high, they say.

Then it gets narrow,

two metres in places,

and on the stone,

are they fossil traces?

It’s a tight squeeze,

you can touch the rock —

but make sure it’s not hiding

a freshwater croc!

Yabbies and turtles,

and a big goanna,

you’ll see them all 

in the Gulf Savannah.

Gorgeous! by James Aitchison

Teacher’s note: The Cobbold Gorge was formed 10,000 years ago.  Several springs feed into the gorge, keeping the water level constant.

Far North Queensland’s Cobbold Gorge. Photo by Ginette Pestana

Rusty in the shoe cupboard by Jeanie Axton

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A girl may love her shoes                                               

but her cat treasures them more

A special place in a cupboard

a spot that she adores

Ah, to rest in the leather

Ooh to breathe in the sweat

An afternoon spent with the shoes

is as good as a cat’s life gets

Rusty in the shoe cupboard by Jeanie Axton

Photo of Rusty provided by Jeanie Axton

I won’t rubbish Australia! by James Aitchison

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Let’s pick up all the trash,

all the soft drink cans,

all the empty packets

left behind by lazy hands.

There’s garbage in the bush,

and rubbish by the road,

and on every beach

there’s more trash by the load.

What kind of careless people

leave all their mess behind?

I think I’d like to see them

well and truly fined!

I will do my part —

and with help from you —

we’ll make sure Australia

always looks brand-new.

Image from Pixabay

Where will we go today? by James Aitchison

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A soft misty sunrise,

adventure’s in the air,

let’s raise the sails and go

while the weather’s fair.

There’s so much to explore —

where will we go today?

For lunch let’s drop anchor

in a quiet bay.

And in the afternoon,

on the glassy tide,

we’ll try our hand at fishing,

as homeward bound we glide.

Where will we go today? by James Aitchison

Sunrise at Picton, South Island, New Zealand. Photo by Ginette Pestana

You Have Teeth by Marque Dobrow

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You have teeth inside your head,
To help you chew and
Swallow your food,
So as you won’t drop dead.
That is what I said.
Some people with teeth inside their head,
Can take them out at night
And put them in a glass beside the bed,
Before they catch some zeds.
What a wonderful privilege
To have teeth inside your head.
And if you can remember
To keep your gums from turning red,
Your teeth shall stand you in good stead.
Other beasts also have teeth inside their head.
Some from which I’ve fled.
Like the snake, several dogs and a horse named Fred.
I enjoy having teeth inside my head.
I aim to keep them there.
And if I do,
I will be well fed.
But if I don’t,
My fate I’ll no doubt dread.
For to a dentist I’ll be led.

You Have Teeth by Marque Dobrow

Image by Pixabay

Give the Birds a Rap by Erica Chester

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A group of eagles is a convocation

And a group of starlings, a murmuration

Ibises cheer in a congregation 

Then bin dive with great elation

Kingfishers live in concentration

Whilst peacocks strut in an ostentation

Larks fly and sing in exaltation

An emu from the mob represents our nation 

Kookaburras laugh in a raucous riot

Pods of pelicans glide in the quiet

A siege of herons (on a strict fish diet)

Duck and dive and bathe in private

Seagulls bicker in a squawking squabble

A gaggle of gregarious turkeys like to gobble 

Sparrows gather in what’s called a quarrel

A waddle of penguins can sometimes wobble

A tiding of magpies warbles all the time

Tiny little fairywrens make a chime

A murder of crows isn’t always a crime

A ballet of swans: graceful in their prime

Give the Birds a Rap by Erica Chester

Image from Pixabay