Now that’s what I call a house,
with lots of space for everyone.
Lots of stairs to run up and down,
and a room on the roof just for fun.
I could play my music really loud —
Mum and Dad wouldn’t hear it at all.
My siblings would be out of my way,
at the other end of a long, long hall.
But when it’s time for dinner,
there’s a problem I can see:
by the time I went down all that way
there’d be nothing left for me!
English stately home. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Eight hours, eight hours of sleep is best
to keep us healthy. Give us rest.
Eight hours brings opportunities
to strengthen our immunities.
To fight off winter’s colds and ‘flu.
Protecting us from cancer too.
For young and old; both short and lanky
lack of sleep can make us cranky.
Take away that eight-hour chunk
and brains act like they’re getting drunk!
Eight hours, eight hours of sleep a day
helps keep us well, live long and play.
Image from Pixabay
With watercolours or oil,
the choice is up to you.
The canvas is totally blank,
just like a day that’s new.
Perhaps you’ll draw with pencil,
or sketch with pen and ink,
why not give charcoal a go —
then sit back and see what you think.
With every single brushstroke,
with every line you draw,
you’ll create an image
that’s unmistakably yours.
Famous painter Hans Heysen’s studio at Hahndorf, South Australia. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Oh what a lovely swamp —
I can hear things going ker-plomp!
And even though it’s blue on top,
underneath it’s slop-slop-slop.
Birds swoop low, fish dive deep,
crocodiles open their eyes for a peek.
The trees haven’t seen their roots for years
and nothing is really what it appears.
It’s all very murky and muddy in there,
and who knows what will come up for air?
Undara, North Queensland. Photo by Ginette Pestana
If I were a koala,
how happy I would be.
I’d have one branch for dinner,
and another one for tea.
There’d be no washing up,
and nothing else to do:
so I’d curl up nice and high,
and sleep an hour or two.
Photo from Pexels by Flip Side
(In honour of National Bathtub Day October 7th)
Let’s have a scrub
in the tub
On National Bathtub Day
Let’s get all wet
up to the neck
On National Bathtub Day
Let’s bring out the bubbles
now there’s trouble
On National Bathtub Day
Let’s use the soap
on a rope
On National Bathtub Day
Let’s wash the puppy
whose looking scruffy
On National Bathtub Day
Let’s clean up well
leave a pleasant smell
On National Bathtub Day
Its rather obscure
And a little peculiar
This National Bathtub Day.
Photo from Pexels by nishizuka
Way up in the mountains
Bamboo forests grow
Swaying to the seasons
Of rain, mist and snow
Only found in China
Elusive and so rare
Fur of black and white
Coats the Panda Bear
Majestic yet reclusive
He minds his own affairs
Pandas do not hibernate
Unlike other bears
Blending into shadow
He cannot be seen
Marking trees with scent
Tell others where he’s been
Large head and jaws to match
Makes easy work to chew
Food of the forest
His diet is bamboo
A type of little thumb
Coming from the wrist
Holds down tasty shoots
Which he can’t resist
With pupils of a cat
He sees well by night
Black fur ‘round each eye
Shades from bright daylight
Strong legs made for weight
Keen ears and sense of smell
Nature’s gifts such as these
Have served him very well
Sadly it came to pass
They became too rare
Action must be taken
To save the Panda Bear
The task awaits but where to start?
Many never knew
Much at all about this bear
Except they eat bamboo!
China’s first to take the lead
And saw what must be done
Now ‘Endangered’, chances slim
The challenge must be won
Other nations joined the quest
Sharing knowledge gained
No effort would be spared
Since very few remained
How to save these precious bears
And care for tiny cubs?
Many zoos around the world
Are conservation hubs
Bamboo forests were restored
Progress showed its face
Numbers slowly rising up
But Pandas set the pace!
Our world adores the Panda
A symbol of good will
Their future now assured
By hard work and skill
They fill each heart with pride
And joy beyond measure
May Pandas always be
China’s national treasure.
Photo from Pexels by Snow Chang
Way up North
Where forest gums grow
Lidia waits and thinks
Grasping a branch
Seen only by chance
Perhaps if she blinks
Amongst the trees
Is where she lives
For most of the day and night
She comes down to feed
Or when there’s a need
And basks in morning light
She hunts on the ground
Where insects are found
Watching from way up a tree
A beetle crawls by
Which catches her eye
It scuttles along to flee
Lidia scamps down
To snatch some lunch
A meal well in view
But wouldn’t you know
She encounters a foe
To pass or pursue
No time to hide
She opens up wide
And spits a nasty hiss
Standing her ground
With a frightful sound
Such courage as this!
Locked in a stare
Neither could bare
To scrap or to slip
Lidia knows what to do
There’s plan number two
Her tail is nature’s whip!
But that’s not enough
She’ll need more bluff
To make herself look bigger
Knowing the drill
She fluffs up her frill
A very timely trigger
A second to spare
Neither will dare
To lunge or to bite
Lidia’s made to deceive
Then take her leave
Departing in full flight
A fiery display
She then runs away
With a rapid retreat
Look at her go!
Outpacing her foe
Sprinting on two feet
She runs up a tree
All safe and sound
But didn’t catch her dinner
With tricks up her sleeve
So hard to believe
Lidia’s come through a winner
Blending right in
Against the bark
She can wait and see
Watching the ground
Where insects are found
The place for her to be
High on a branch
She hopes for a chance
To catch a meal today
Below there’s a rustle
She’s ready to tussle
Luck has come her way
Down she flies in pursuit
Lidia now gives chase
But she’s far too swift and strong
So easily wins the race
A centipede! What a feed!
It’s really been her day
Up the tree to wait and see
And that’s where she’ll stay
Photo from Pexels by Detlef Bukowski
Stop the train,
I want to get off —
that bridge looks a disaster!
It happened when
they had a flood
and the river ran much faster.
It twisted the rails,
it bent the bridge —
any train would roll and sway.
So until it’s fixed,
until it’s safe,
no more trains will pass this way!
Rail bridge at Einasleigh, Gulf Country, North Queensland. Photo by Ginette Pestana
First I saw bubbles —
just two or three —
breaking the surface
of the water near me.
And then into view
came the beast’s ugly snout —
“Crocodile! Crocodile!”
the world heard me shout.
I ran up the bank
as it clambered ashore
and sat in the sun
where I’d been before.
When it opened its jaws,
I had a strong hunch —
if I hadn’t moved quickly,
I would have been lunch!
Freshwater crocodile, Cobbold Gorge, North Queensland. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Australian Children’s Poetry 