“My kite” by Walter de Jong

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My kite


My kite’s caught in a tree.

I don’t think that I’ll be getting it down.

If I climbed up and my foot slipped

I could hurt myself when I hit the ground.

It cost a pretty penny. It was worth it all I guess

because the time when it was flying is the time I call ‘best’


My kite’s caught in the tree.

You can watch it now as it flaps in the wind.

So it’s more or less like a flag these days

of a country where I once was king.

It cost a pretty penny. It was worth it all I guess

because the time when it was flying is the time I call ‘best’


I can see it in my mind as it was lifted to the sky.

I could feel it pull away as it started on its rise.


My kite’s caught in a tree

but one day I think that I might get it back.

And it might be faded and it may be torn

but I’m pretty sure I’ll be right with that.

It cost a pretty penny. It was worth it all I guess

because the time when it was flying is the time I call ‘best’

Rain dear/A Christmas Poem

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Merry Christmas Everyone

Rain dear

In Australia, when it’s Christmas hot,

A farmer’s keen for a little drop

of rain from heaven, upon his roof,

of Santa’s gifts, he looks for proof

Then drumming starts above; he hears

his wife call out “It’s rain dear!”

Walter de Jong

A Christmas Poem

Christmas time, oh Christmas, Time of sentiment so nice.

Christmas time, ah, Family time, With poems by Helen Steiner Rice.

Christmas comes but once a year On the 25th of December,

And makes the rest of the year, With its sorrows and joys,

That much sweeter to remember.

Bridh Hancock

Poem of the Day


Cumin to my kitchen

is a warming winter soup

starring cauliflower of course

the biggest top in town.

Collected in my colander

Is my tender little troupe

but as I rinse them in a rivulet

something wriggles then rolls down

he has practiced this performance

to avoid birds and their beaks

he seems suited to a circus

he’s  like a caterpillar clown

Walter de Jong
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #36

Poetry Prompt #36

Poem of the Day

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To a T

My thought paused where paths intersect,

it knew which way was right

but what was left to know

was much more interesting that night

‘tis true that to the right

was where all sensible thoughts would turn;

avoiding less trod tracks, devoid of facts

where questions burned

but this thought had a mission;

to discover poetry

and he risked the world’s derision.

That way suits him to a t

Walter de Jong
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #2


Walter’s cloud theory: A cloud should fulfil its purpose of conveying something of substance which, upon precipitation, may nurture growth in the earth. A cloud should be impressive in itself; beautiful, awesome and individual; it should evoke feeling. A cloud should engage its audience and inspire them to find an echo of their own imaginings and create their own personal meaning. And in my own creations I will aim to emulate the clouds.

Poem of the Day



The Keyhole

by Walter de Jong


Our cave we called the Keyhole,

we’d climb up there to see

the ferry carrying families

that drove out to the beach.

I’d sit there and imagine

floods rising high back then

to carve for us this keyhole

then rejoin the world again.

That door opened secretly

to millennia before

the cars, the ferry, boats and planes,

schools and rules and laws

And now…The ferry’s gone, and rust has taken

cars and boats and planes.

While I move on the Keyhole stays,

the secret place remains.


  • Submitted in response to 2016 Poetry Prompt #1


Poem of the Day

by Walter de Jong

Dear planter of my paradise,

I wanted to you to know

how much that I appreciate

the great greens that you grow

When whispering spring awoke me

From my winter’s hibernation

I beheld a feast prepared for me

beyond imagination

For twenty years we’ve shared this place

And pickings have been poor

But now we’ve got this vegie patch

It’s looking up for sure

There’s one thing I should mention though

I’m sure it’s not your fault

You might not understand

That I’m allergic to that salt.

  • Submitted in response to Words+Pictures #5