The kids said..
We don’t want sandwiches
We don’t want cheesy rolls
We’ve had enough of wraps and crackers
We’ve had enough of scrolls
Well, then Mum said..
Would you like some liverwurst?
Maybe deep fried brains?
Perhaps some spinach that I boiled,
Would make a lovely change?
The kids said..
A sandwich is fine mum..
Thanks
Tegan the vegan
Won’t eat meat
She says fauna are friends
Not food we should eat
If it runs or blows bubbles
Brays, baas or moos
It‘s not destined for dinner
Or handbags or shoes
Tegan the vegan
Won’t eat meat
She can’t stand the idea
That her food once had feet
She munches on mushrooms
Scoffs spinach and greens
Eats vegies galore
Gobbles all the good beans
Tegan the Vegan
Won’t eat meat
She moves to the rhythm
Of her own silver beet
And while it’s not understood
By all those she holds dear
Her tummy is full
And her conscience is clear
There is a special place in our hearts and souls
That can only be filled by someone
who instinctively understands us,
Loves us unconditionally,
Is never demanding of our love and attention
But is always grateful for it.
That’s why pets are family.
Sioban says: This piece was written for a friend after their dog died. Pets especially dogs are so the ultimate carers, they bring so much to our lives and expect so little in return. Cats on the other hand…..
There once was a postie called Progge
Who had a most wonderful dog
It could carry more letters
Than fifteen red setters
And he never got lost in the fog!
Sioban says: I wrote this in primary school after we learnt about limericks – and for some reason I have always remembered it!
Cats – ALWAYS – Sit Up Front!
My night sky cat by the window sat
Black coat reflected the moon
His tail swung side to side, as I watched him wide eyed
And stated ‘You belong on the back of a broom!’
My night sky cat then turned and spat
And stood tall upon the ledge
For the worst kind of curse, is a cat that is nervous
And my comment had put him on edge
My night sky cat resettled and sat
With a satisfied look and a twitch
How dare I assume, that by moon on a broom
He would take the BACKSEAT for a witch!
Sioban says: This prompt made me think of magic – how can a black cat and a night sky not make you think of magic?
I tried to mix up the rhythm a little bit to make the poem more interesting and get a more challenging rhyme!
If a rosebud could talk,
Would it hum like the bees?
Or would the petals soft whisper, be lost to the breeze.
If a seashell could talk,
Would it crash like a wave?
Telling off all the mermaids, who didn’t behave.
If a feather could talk,
Would it sing through the night?
Calling out to the bird, who had lost it in flight.
If I could talk to them all
Then so quiet I’d stay,
For if we would just listen, imagine what they might say.
Sioban says: When I looked at this prompt I originally pondered the connection to each other – nature. Then, what do these things symbolise? What do they ‘say to me’? Then I thought what would they SAY to me and that led to this.
Strike away the days
In strokes sharp and purposeful
Cut them down like old growth forest
The calendar boxes, the tree rings of our lives
With each slashing mark of pen to page
Screaming out the passing time
Strike away the year
Remove the tired dog eared pages
Cast aside events and tasks of yesterday
Carefully raise and hang the New Year high
Crisp and clean like the dove and olive branch
A new beginning in each blank square.
Sioban Timmer
He walks the beach
Collecting driftwood
Calm carries on the sea air,
Hunks of timber now distressed.
Turned by the lathing waves of the salted expanse
How enduring they are,
So far from their green beginnings
He inhales and smiles
As the breath escapes he muses
I guess we have a lot in common
He will take them in
Find new life in their random forms
They are a seaside distraction
A salty breeze on city days in his urban garden
Serenity obtained in a memory of beachcombing
Sioban Timmer
Sioban says: I like how this poem has a sense of textures – wood, sand, water and the effect that they have on each other.
I lift a hand up to my eyes
While scuffing shoes and shooing flies
Watching the heat cloud wave and rise
As I journey under cloudless skies
The path is long to our home gate
The only traffic, trucks and freight
Frustrating if the mail is late
Meaning yet another day to wait
But not today, I have no fear
I sense it as I’m drawing near
That in that box, with address clear
Today I know, my book is here
Unwrapping it, the cover cold
Embossed with letters nice and bold
What tales are waiting to be told?
What new adventures will unfold?
I lift my hand up to my eyes
Now flying feet and fleeing flies
Watching the heat cloud wave and rise
As I journey under cloudless skies.
Sioban Timmer
People think that shadows pass
With sunset’s fading light
But that’s when shadows party-
When the daytime turns to night
We assume our fellow shadows
Are always waiting for our call
But when you close your eyes at night
They are not there at all
In sunshine they just copy
(Which can really be a bore)
But free to roam within dark
They dance and fly and soar
The darkness makes it possible
For them to leave your side
And when our shadows get the chance
They wander far and wide
So every night while you’re in bed
And sleep is close to hand
Dream about your shadow
Dancing free across the land.
Sioban Timmer
Australian Children’s Poetry 