Poor Jasper McGore,
by a creek for a while,
fell asleep, didn’t see
the huge crocodile.
Those mighty jaws
opened big and wide,
swallowed him whole,
but Jasper inside
tickled its tongue,
made it open one jaw,
and out climbed one half
of Jasper McGore.
Photo by Sebastien Varin on Unsplash
I wanted to write a poem about Sunday,
simply because it rhymed with Monday.
But then it was Tuesday,
I struggled all day,
and all Wednesday I waited
with breath abated,
and decided that Thursday
would be my verse day!
But no words came to mind,
I got really behind,
now it’s Sunday again
and I’ve lost my pen…
Teacher’s note: “To wait with bated breath” is a very common phrase. Bated is short for “abated”. It is never spelled “abaited”, because bait refers to hunting and trapping.
Hello, puppy, what’s your name?
Where did they find you?
Have you come to live at my place,
or are you passing through?
I got here first, I make the rules,
so set them in your head:
never ever eat my food,
and don’t sleep in my bed!
I woke up to a sound
Beating in my head
An imaginary tune
Which trumpets led.
I did not recognise
What vibrated in my ear
But moved instinctively
In pleasure it was clear.
A mist came over me
Like I was in a dream
Music became louder
Or so it seemed.
Guitars took the stage
A melody subdued
In this euphoria
I felt totally attuned.
The beat continued on
I embraced the melody
It took me to a special place
One that I could only see.
Photo from Pexels by Tim Mossholder
Archer is not an angel
But he is my pride and joy
He’s not always obedient
But loves to play with a toy.
It doesn’t matter what it is
As long as it is thrown
As he just loves to catch it
On his very own.
He can chase it endlessly
Even when he’s puffed
But he won’t give up easily
Until he’s totally stuffed.
Archer is not an angel
But he is an angel to me
He represents all that’s good
Innocence and humility.
I dreamed one day I’d journey
over the sea to Skye,
and I did, on a modern ferry,
to where the crags reach high.
Like Bonnie Prince Charlie himself,
I had the hills to climb,
where songs and daring legends
were born in the mists of time.
Frances Felicity Frankenstein
Will you be my valentine?
Though your surname is not glamorous
Your smile always makes me amorous.
Last week when I held your hand
I knew our love was something grand.
We’ve been together twelve whole weeks,
Our bond is something quite unique.
Although you have a mono-brow
I still adore you anyhow.
It’s true three of your teeth are missing,
But I don’t notice when we’re kissing.
I love to hold you every day
And know that you will always stay.
Perhaps, come many years from now,
We could exchange wedding vows.
I’ll lift your veil and kiss your freckles;
Your name will then be Mrs Jekyll.
There’s a possum on my roof
and he’s not eating cake
He is stomping up and down
keeping me awake
There’s a possum on my roof
learning the highland fling
He is happily enjoying it
but it’s not my sort of thing
There a possum on my roof
tapping out a beat
He finds it pretty handy
having thumbs on both his feet
There’s a possum on my roof
I wish he would go home
Up to his branch in the tree
and leave me quietly alone
I could have gone for a morning walk
but I just stayed in my bed.
I might have seen the sunrise
but I dreamed a dream instead.
I could have run a marathon
but I’m a bit slow on my feet.
I might have won a medal
if there weren’t so many to beat.
I could have painted a masterpiece
if I had the motivation
I could’ve been known far and wide
but I lacked the application.
I might have been a master chef
as I’m one who’s out to dine.
I could have prepared a delicious meal
but I just ran out of time.
I could have done a lot of things
but I have a plan instead.
I’ll just sit here with my cup of tea
and perform them in my head.
I wonder what’s out in the ocean,
hiding under the sea?
A coral reef or a pirate ship,
with a chest full of treasure for me?
I wonder what’s out in the ocean,
hiding under the waves?
A great big whale or a dolphin,
or an octopus in a cave?
I don’t know what’s out in the ocean,
it’s too far away to reach.
So I’ll just close my eyes and dream
here on the soft sandy beach.
Australian Children’s Poetry 