The bright afternoon is over,
the sun is low in the sky,
the world is holding its breath
and the trees are waving goodbye.
The first night creatures are stirring
and bats come out to play,
as the night spreads over the plain
and claims the leavings of the day.
When the sun goes down by James Aitchison
Desert sunset, Australia. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Lately I’ve become quite the honey connoisseur,
Trying different flavours as I go from store to store.
I’ve learnt the taste and colour depends on the flower.
Stringybark is dark while Blue Gum is amber.
Worker bees forage and collect the nectar;
Caring for the queen – they will fiercely protect her.
Drone bees have no stinger and they are the males,
While females do a waggle dance by ‘talking’ with their tails.
Keep on buzzing, little bees, I’m in awe of your skill.
Lucky honey won’t expire ‘cause my shelf is now full.
It’s time for gooey sweetness on my toast and in my tea.
Then I’ll plant some garden flowers to keep the honey bees happy.
Honey Bee by Linda Davidson
Photo taken by Linda Davidson
Happy World Bee Day !!
A row of Ficus
Line the drive
Evergreen
And air revive.
On a branch
Possums nest
Escaping from
Daylights quest.
Annoyingly
The leaves shed
Continuously
The drive, their bed.
Falling softly
When winds blow
Floating leaves
Put on a show.
A quiet whisper
Through the trees
As branches shuffle
In the breeze.
Lovely Ficus
Large and strong
Manicured
They’re now oblong.
As they look out
Upon the street
The trees observe
The passing feet.
They see the birds
That fly on by
Or those that perch
On branches high.
Lovely Ficus
Line the drive
Evergreen
Where they survive.
Lovely Ficus (Ficus hillii) by Toni Newell
Photo taken by Toni Newell
candy coloured twists and twirls
little wicks charred and curled
melted wax holding fast
to memories of birthdays past
candles in a box by Graham Seal
Image from Pixabay
Whether we wills or
Whether we won’ts
Whether we dos or
Whether we don’ts
Whether we oughts or
Whether we on’ts
It all depends on choice
Whether we shalls or
Whether we shan’ts
Whether we cans or
Whether we can’ts
Whether we mights or
Whether we man’ts
It all depends on choice
Choice is rather marvelous gift
It offers a moment to make a shift
To think through or guess
To say no or yes
To do right or wrong
To be weak or strong
To be good or bad
To be calm or mad
Whether we wins or whether we loses
Depends in the end on how we chooses
Choices by Andrew Plant
Image from Pixabay
A mother’s love is like a freshly picked bouquet;
Full of life and colour, making everything okay.
A mother’s love is like the brightest shining star;
Lighting the way with warmth, even from afar.
A mother’s love is like the best pages from a book;
Guiding with truth and wisdom, as you take a fresh look.
A mother’s love is like a lioness watching her cubs play;
Defending and providing as you grow stronger every day.
A mother’s love is like a moon beam full of gentle light;
As her prayers of protection keep you safe at night.
A mother’s love is celebrated on a special Sunday each year.
Spend some time with Mum in May to show her that you care.
A Mother’s Love by Linda Davidson
Image from Pixabay
“I like the heat,
freezing nights too,
clear cloudless skies
with stars blinking through.
Grant me a wilderness
so desolate and dry,
that echoes in its silence
for every passer-by.
“I’m not a fussy eater
but know just where to look.
I can eat the plants
which make others really crook!
My soft lips of velvet
take thistle, thorn or prickle.
I’ll nibble away without delay;
their spikes barely tickle.
“For those who do believe
my hump’s a jerrycan,
I would like to share with you
why that is not the plan.
It’s how I store some fat
to use when times are tough,
for energy and water
and if that’s not enough,
I recycle vapour
back along my nose;
a clever way to sort
and solve my water woes.
“My long and steady legs
cut distance every stride;
padded feet for trekking
won’t split, sink or slide.
No matter the terrain
hills, rocks or sand,
we can journey onward
across the desert land.
“These eyes have luscious lashes,
and my face shows a grin.
I can shut my nostrils
to stop sand from getting in!
Strong, tough and hardy;
they say we are all three.
We’re made for desert life
as I was meant to be.
“Now in modern times
trekking ‘s still the same.
I’m here among my Caravan
and Carmel is my name.
Relax to the rhythm
of rock, roll and sway,
all in line with my friends
and we are on our way.”
CLEVER CARMEL BY EDWINA SMITH
Image from Pixabay
Billy Joe was very angry
And he had lots to say
About Archer’s poor behaviour
Happened almost every day.
‘You get us into trouble
I always take the blame
Trying to protect you
And taking on the shame.’
‘I’m sorry’ Archer barked
‘It’s just that I’m so young
I need some stimulation
And I need to have some fun’.
‘That’s all very well for you
Do you ever consider me
I constantly look after you
Appreciation I never see.
I think you’re very selfish
If you’re really my best friend
You’ll have to make an effort
Put bad behaviour to an end’.
‘Well I can only try
But there is no guarantee
That I can do what you ask
For my spirit it runs free.
I want to be your best friend
And behave accordingly
I’ll do my very, very best
You just wait and see’.
One week had passed
And all was going fine
Archer had behaved
Which was a good sign.
Billy Joe so happy
He could hardly bark
And Archer, angelic
Didn’t leave his mark.
‘There you see’ barked Archer
‘I told you I would try
I think I have succeeded
Bad behaviour say goodbye’.
Billy Joe was sceptical
But he had to admit
That Archer had improved
He should get some credit.
Now Billy Joe and Archer
Will be friends for life
The young lad now behaving
Not causing any strife.
Poor Billy Joe by Toni Newell
Image from Pixabay
There are games and pranks and jokes and larks.
There are funny looks and odd remarks,
comical lines and witty asides.
It’s always good to see the funny side.
A giggle, a snicker, a hoot, a guffaw –
these are the sounds we enjoy and applaud.
We fall about laughing; we roll in the aisle.
We double up, chortle, snigger and smile.
So, here’s to laughter; here’s to fun,
to witticisms, gags, jests and puns.
When things look grey and not too bright,
we can always look for the funny side.
World Laughter Day by Pauline Cleary
Image from Pixabay
Their names are etched forever
beneath a statue’s feet,
or beside a lofty obelisk
on every main street.
They left their farms to fight,
young men who heard the call,
from offices and banks,
prepared to give their all.
Some fell in foreign fields,
in trenches far away,
while others maimed and struggling,
relived their horrors every day.
The debt our nation owes them —
how can it be repaid?
Let us all remember them,
let not their honour fade.
A DAY LIKE NO OTHER by James Aitchison
Photo sent in by James Aitchison: “George William Aitchison (1873-1950) served with the NSW Volunteer Bushmen in the Boer War”
Teacher’s note: From the Boer War to Afghanistan, 103,101 men and women have died serving Australia.
Australian Children’s Poetry 