I climb the stairs and zip down the slide,
I’m racing round the playground.
Hanging from bars and jumping on rocks,
laughing so loud on the merry-go-round.
And when I get my turn on the swing,
I’ll never get off, not ever.
Not even if you promise me cake,
I’m going to swing forever!
The Swing is Mine by Sara Patricia Kelly
Image from Pixabay
I goggle at the looking glass,
with elbows out like I’m in class
observing Mamma click and twist,
her lipstick case with soft cream wrist.
She neatly writes her royal red o’s,
on lips that bloom like candy rose.
I puff in perfumed powder pots
of pinkish chalk and pansy drops
as Mamma’s strands of sprinkles chink
around her neck. Two dolls, we prink
with sippica-pippica pucker and kiss,
a wet jelly bean for big, red lips!
Watching Mamma Apply Lipstick by Sarah Patricia Kelly
Image from Pixabay
Tumberlina has ten toes,
stumble-bumble, up she goes!
Her weeny foot slips on a stair
and now her toes are in the air.
Giggle-wiggle, with a hop
she’s off again to reach the top.
Photo from Pixabay
Australian Children’s Poetry 