“Van-nana” by Sioban Timmer


Van – nana



A bunch of monkeys at the zoo

Devised a daring plan

To create a small diversion

And then steal the keeper’s van


They waited ‘til his back was turned

And swung behind the wheel

The keeper didn’t notice

‘Til he heard his tyres squeal


They headed for the fruit and veg

The customers all ran

As monkeys swiped bananas

And threw them in the van


They tore their way right through the town

With crazy monkey smiles

When the ‘nanas and the fuel ran out

They’d gone a hundred miles


The van was found much later

The policeman stroked his chin

And pondered how he should report

A Combi full of skins

“Stolen Sky” By Sioban Timmer


Superb fairy-wrens are also known as blue wrens, they live as a family group.

Fairy-wrens have weak powers of flight but have long legs and spend most of their time on the ground or in shrubs, progressing in a series of hops as they gather food.

In families of superb fairy-wrens it seems that fathers get all the good looks. The dazzling blue feathers on the breeding male’s head, neck and tail. Somewhere nearby will be a group of small brown birds. These are the females, and ‘stay at home’ children of previous broods.


Stolen Sky

By Sioban Timmer


Fairy Wren upon a branch

I love to watch you skip and prance

Your colour stolen from the sky

A summer moment dancing by


Your partner with her feathers brown

Is no less pretty as she bounds

Perhaps because you make the pair

Of sky and earth together there


So Fairy Wren please stay a while

Lift my heart and make me smile

Though even once you hop away

A hint of summer sky will stay

“Free as a Ladybird” by Sioban Timmer

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Free As a Ladybird


Ladybird ladybird fly to your tree

The children are screaming and coming to see

They have a big jar and a challenge to get

A most lovely bug they can keep as a pet


Ladybird ladybird fly away free

Take to the wind and race with the bee

For you are too quick and too nimble and wild

To be trapped and contained by a curious child


Ladybird ladybird fly to your den

The children have gone and you’re safe once again

The garden is quiet just you and the gnomes

Now the children have all raced away to their homes.

“Thongs and Boardies” by Sioban Timmer



Thongs and Boardies

Songs of yore, can be a bore

When they speak of snow and Holly.

Songs of sun are much more fun

To make our Christmas jolly.

We don’t ride sleighs – we catch some rays

As temperatures are soaring.

Hams to slice and prawns on ice

The feast is never boring.

Thongs on feet are not complete

Without our favourite boardies.

And by the pool, we’re staying cool

As Christmas hits the forties.

We don’t admire yuletide fire

Where chestnuts sit to roast.

We find fun with water guns,

Watch the sunset by the coast.

Raise a cup, with head held up

And toast the winter failure.

Sunshine above, what’s not love

That’s Christmas in Australia.


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The Magic Elephant


The Bradbury Brothers Big Top

Travelled round from town to town

With all the big attractions

Tigers, tightropes and a clown


To keep the patrons interested

They had to keep it new

So they brought a snake and elephant

And bearded lady too


But the Strongman pulled a hammie

(He exerted too much force)

And the showgirl broke her leg

When falling from her dancing horse


The Bradbury Brothers panicked

The tent was full of angry hicks

They would have to get the elephant

To do some magic tricks


Card tricks are elementary

And quite easy to debunk

This trick must be amazing

(And completed with a trunk!)


They set up eight big ostrich eggs

With care upon the mat

And gave the giant pachyderm

A wizard wand and hat


Then to the crowd’s great wonder

Each egg just sank away

Though it was not a magic elephant

(but a starving snake that day)


The only proof of what occurred

For the trick had gone so well

Was a smiling snake contented

Burping out the old egg shells.

Sioban Timmer
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #26

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Sunday Dinner

My Nan grew up in wartime

And thought nothing goes to waste

And sometimes Sunday dinner

Wasn’t really to my taste


I loved to go to her house

And most of the meals were great

But at times I really struggled

To eat the food upon my plate


Her Shepherd’s Pie was awesome

And I loved cold meats and cheese

She made Special Fried Potatoes

That always made me say “More please”


But every now and then

The dish that truly gave me shivers

I couldn’t even stand the smell

Of Nan’s boiled chicken livers


I pushed them all around the plate

And covered them with sauce

Tried to mix them with potatoes

But it didn’t help of course


In the end I had to say

There really was one choice

And though I knew it would be hard

I mustered up my voice


“Nan – I don’t like boiled chicken livers”


There was a moment’s silence

And my eyes were opened wide

Nan looked at me and gently smiled

“Just push them to the side”


After that no chicken livers

Were served at Sunday dinner

And we had all the other lovely things

My tastebuds were the winner

Sioban Timmer
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #20

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Yellow Letters


When my grandad passed away

We found beneath the floor

A beat up, sturdy wooden box

We’d never seen before


The reason that we found it

Was a floor board out of place

It was sticking out and I tripped up

And landed on my face


I could tell it was important

And I removed it with great care

Grandad loved us all so much

What would he hide down there?


Mum looked surprised as I was

As she opened up the lid

Slowly then, her tears rolled down

As she found out what he hid


Her face had turned from flush to pale

As though she’d seen a ghost

So many yellowed envelopes

He never meant to post.


Mum said that Grandad never wrote

While serving in the war

And all these papers sitting here

She’d never seen before


We sat and read together

Sharing tears and love as well

My grandad never wrote of war

As it was nothing short of hell


He couldn’t say the words out loud

But these letters had ensured

That maybe one day later

We would know what he’d endured


We placed them back into the box

And closed the lid up tight

I felt my grandad was at peace

When I fell asleep that night


For though he never posted them

Those letters got him through

For the final one said ‘War is done!

I’m coming home to you’

Sioban Timmer
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #12

Sioban said: I just recently received copies of my Grandad’s war medals and have a special box to place them in, I think that put the idea to the front of my mind.


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Billy Bonder and the Beautiful Belly Button Bubbles


Billy Bonder often pondered

While sitting naval gazing

Just what it was about belly buttons

He found totally amazing


The button turned nothing on or off

It seemed to have no use

Perhaps he thought its purpose was

To stop his bum from coming loose


So finally he thought it time

To try and make a start

And find some useful purpose

For this lazy body part


It was all that Billy thought about

‘til it gave him tummy trouble

And then one day by accident

His belly button blew a bubble


The pity was for all concerned

That it seemed that at the start

The only way to blow a belly bubble

Was to counter balance with a fart


But Billy took the time to practice

Even Mum was tickled pink

When he blew beautiful belly bubbles

Without the noise or awful stink


With his special new found skill

Billy Bonder shot to fame

The beautiful belly button bubbles

Meant everybody knew his name


While it was an innovation

And quite startling and new

Billy realised he would be old news

In just a week (or maybe two)


And he was right, it wasn’t long

Before someone had him beat

Jenny Jones from Jonbley Junction

Could knit jumpers with her feet


So while the button did him proud

And brought Billy fleeting fame

His belly button could now retire

And start collecting lint again

Sioban Timmer
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #2