People gathered in the hall
The chatter loudly soaring
Cuppas, biscuits, busy hands
It must be Craft Group morning.
Craft Group by Frankie Rose

Image from Pixabay
People gathered in the hall
The chatter loudly soaring
Cuppas, biscuits, busy hands
It must be Craft Group morning.
Craft Group by Frankie Rose

Image from Pixabay
This cave is at Undara,
a short walk from our bus.
The cave is nice and cool —
outside it’s 40 plus!
Forty thousand bats
call these caves their home,
and when the sun goes down,
the bats fly out to roam.
But when they do — watch out!
There’s danger in the night:
snakes jump out from trees
and catch them in mid-flight.
The moral of the story?
See lava caves by day!
And keep the bats and snakes
well out of your way.

Undara Lava Tubes, North Queensland. Photo by Ginette Pestana
I’ve fetched a cloth and made it damp
with silver polish goo.
I’m banking on this little lamp
to make my dreams come true.
I’ve rubbed and scrubbed. I’ve really tried.
The smell has made me dizzy.
But nothing’s stirred from deep inside.
The genie must be busy.

Image from Pexels
Crash, bang, wallop
I’m starting up a band
Crash, bang, wallop
my drum stick hits the pan.
Crash, bang, wallop
it’s great to make a noise
Crash, bang, wallop
beats playing with my toys.
Crash, bang, wallop
my pan lid cymbals smash
Crash, bang, wallop
I love to yell and bash.
Crash, bang, wallop
it’s really going well
Crash, bang, wallop
this is music – can’t you tell?

Image from Pixabay
Mary had a little lamb,
it grew into a sheep.
It got so big and woolly,
she gave it to Bo Peep.
Little Bo Peep was
minding the sheep,
eating her curds and whey,
when a massive great spider
sat down beside her
and would not go away.
She sent off a text
to her pals Jack and Jill;
with three blind mice,
they ran up the hill.
All the king’s horses ran away with the spoon
and the sheep jumped over the moon.

Photo by James Aitchison
How long have you stood there,
by whose hand were you made?
Your slabs were rough hewn,
but carefully laid
into place, long ago,
still standing but weathered,
where a drover’s horse
was maybe once tethered.
Tell me, did bushrangers
ever ride by you?
Did farmers’ children
once sit astride you?
What stories you’d whisper
of history and such,
of old pioneers
whose memories we touch.

Photo courtesy of Gina Pestana
‘Oh please let me in’ said the bear who was grizzly
‘I’m doing a show, I don’t want it frizzly.’
He tugged at his hair, that fussy old bear
‘I’ve just had it dyed, it used to be fair’.
Those waiting in line just smiled at each other
Ev’ryone happy to help their brother.
A worm who was third from the start of the queue
Was shivering hard and fast turning blue
‘What’s wrong with this bus? It’s broken down?
Will anyone ever get into the town?’
The town was twinkling and bright with its light
Some in the queue were starting to fight.
A big bird with a bandage around one wing
Started to dance the highland fling
A pelican said to a stork ‘Outrageous!
I do hope this madness is not contagious.’
The stork looked at him squarely and quietly said
‘I wish I were home and tucked into my bed’.
Three canaries were singing (they’d been to a dance)
The song they were singing was written in France
They yodelled and trilled all over the scales
They even tried singing the song of the whales.
They ordered some orange and cherry ice cream
Enough to feed a whole basketball team.
The ice cream arrived and the queue they went crazy
Except for the piglets – they’re terribly lazy,
They wanted some oak nuts, acorns they’re called,
They said they grew hair and no-one was bald.
Maybe it’s true that nuts cover the scalp
But nobody there needed that kind of help.
The crowd suddenly hushed and fell into silence
Somewhere behind was an outbreak of violence
A basketball team had arrived with some melons
Those in the crowd believed they were felons
(people who steal from others their treasures)
Getting caught redhanded was one of their pleasures!
The whole scene looked stupid to Harry the Horse
Who was trying to study the subject of Morse
He tapped then he paused and waited for action
His hoof immune from outer distraction
He tapped dah dah dit, dit dah, dah and dit*
(If it worked he would make a quick dash for it.)
Did you hear about Harry’s ultimate fate?
His message was read – it opened the gate!
Harry leapt forth and came in number nine
And met a young filly he thought was divine;
When Harry proposed she promised to tryst
‘Cos Harry had asked with a flick of his wrist.
Well, you might think that this is all rot,
That all horses can do is gallop and trot,
But Harry believed he could dominate fate
By placing his faith in the power to create.
The message he’d sent by dah and by dit
Had stretched his talent and used all of his wit.
Dah dah dit, tapped in Morse will give you a ‘g’
Dit dah gives you ‘a’, dah and dit ‘t’ and ‘e’
So Harry the Horse repeated his offer,
Confirmed he was humble and empty his coffer;
And Tilly the Filly was thrilled with his Morse
And she happily neighed ‘Oh Harry, of course’.
Sorry I am, about this diversion
I have an aversion to total immersion
The queue got itself rattled
They all tittle-tattled
The bus arrived late and was slow to unload
But who jumped out first? Of course – the toad.
*In Morse code this spells GATE

Photo from Pexels by Pavlos Lee
Giggy Gilbert had a horse,
he didn’t have a cart.
He had to blow a whistle
before the horse would start.
The horse was deaf and couldn’t hear,
So Giggy, in despair,
Picked it up in both hands
And carried it everywhere.
When Spanish ships were making trips
To trade and gather treasure,
Crews learned to fear the buccaneer,
Whose boldness knew no measure.
I should be clear, a buccaneer
Was tough and rough and ruthless
He’d climb aboard and use his sword
Or make his victims toothless.
Then, grabbing loot, he’d quickly scoot
Before someone could catch him.
He’d sail away to find more prey;
For daring, few could match him!
But now, today, I need to say
(Though sworn to keep it quiet):
He won’t attack if there’s a lack
Of fibre in his diet!
For I have heard, (it sounds absurd),
He craves a balanced meal,
Including beans and other greens
Before he’ll sail to steal.
Don’t think me wrong. I’ve heard the song
When buccaneers assemble.
They drop their ‘g’s, which does not please,
But these words make me tremble:
“Now bring your bunch of broccoli, boys
And throw it in the basin.
We’ll eat it raw and call for more
Then ships we’ll go a-chasin’!”

Monty says: I began by researching buccaneers to introduce the poem, then made a first draft of their song about broccoli, which led to the thoughts about fibre and a balanced diet. The concluding verses had to be revised to accommodate the basin and justify the final rhyme.