A pair of pants blocks my view,
I can’t see down the street,
there’s fresh new snow upon the waist
and every icy pleat.
The lederhosen shop next door
makes leather pants like these,
and they hang a pair made of iron
to dangle in the breeze.
(In response to What’s Outside Your Window prompt #2. Teacher’s note: Lederhosen are short or knee-legth leather breeches often worn in German-speaking regions.)
Outside my window
Black cockatoos
Walk on the grass
searching for bugs and worms after the rain.
Outside my window
currawongs hover, seeking space between cockatoos,
hungry for bugs and worms after the rain.
Outside my window
plovers land and take off again.
Too many others searching for bugs and worms after the rain.
No room for eggs here.
Outside my window, magpies chase away the larger birds.
They won the yard today.
(In response to prompt #2 What’s Outside Your Window?)
As this is Jacinta’s first contribution to Australian Children’s Poetry we thought you’d like to know a little bit about her:
I’m a writer living in the bush in southern Tasmania with my black pug, Bellatrix. When I’m not writing I look out my window to Kunanyi, Mount Wellington, and watch the many birds foraging in the trees and on the grass. I write for children and hope to publish picture books.
I’m on the Harry Potter train,
in the highlands bold and bleak,
racing through a Scottish glen,
where mist clings to every peak.
The soul of Scotland calls to me
whichever way I look,
from wind-rushed heather on the hill
to every stony brook.
Teacher’s note: The Jacobite steam train, used as the Hogworts Express in the Harry Potter movies, runs between Fort William and Mallaig. This 84-mile round trip is regarded as one of the world’s epic rail journeys.
Half asleep I pulled up my blind
and saw two men from Mars!
They were in the garden, watching me,
too big for any vase.
With special alien fingers
and huge galactic eyes,
no wonder my friend Philip said
they’d come down from the skies.
How can one describe them?
Thousands of little bays.
We’re on the Royal Mail boat.
It only runs two days.
Little coves with just one house,
they must love this isolation.
The boat drops in to leave them goods,
like a train at every station.
Rugged hills with ferns to cover,
I wonder how folk live.
Plenty of fish and wildlife
They’re hardy to survive.
This way of life is not for me,
I cannot live on just beauty,
without the comforts of my place.
I need to see a friendly face.
(In response to prompt #2 What’s Outside Your Window?)
Hi everyone, thank you to all those who have sent in their poems for the Winter Waves prompt.
This week I’m lucky enough to be in Saigon, Vietnam! The image below is what I can see outside my window this morning and I wondered, what do you see outside your window? Feel free to still contribute to Winter Waves or send in poems about your own interests.
Looking forward to receiving your fantastic poetry! Don’t forget the new address ozchildrenspoetry@gmail.com
Here’s my contribution:
Sunrise brings
clouds tinged with yellow and orange
as families wake to start their day
or find their way home to rest.
Sunrise brings
barges along the river carrying
everything from rocks to rice.
Sunrise brings
a view of a city that never really sleeps
and the sounds of life
beginning another day.
The breeze coaxes
the windows open:
Windows as large as doors;
Windows as small as Nana’s china blue
dinner plates;
Windows of rainbow coloured glass
covered with trees and angels;
Windows frosted, so you can’t see through them,
textured and light grey.
The breeze beckons the windows open
creak
squeak
knock, knock.
The breeze doesn’t care if they are latched
lifted,
or pushed out
as long as
they open.
The breeze remembers when
windows had no glass
and were just open squares in
the walls and there was no air conditioning.
The breeze knows that some windows
are so clean and clear
that when they are closed
clueless birds fly into them.
Splat!
Whoosh! Ha, ha!
The breeze chuckles its cooling fresh breath
through open windows
into the outback houses
wishing for the end of summer.
Morning comes in through my window
making shadows on my wall
I can see the roses waving
I can hear the magpies call
In the street the dogs are barking
busy people start their day
I stay wrapped within my doona
till it’s time for me to play
Morning comes in through my window
beams of sunlight make me smile
Mummy’s calling me to breakfast
‘In a while, Mum. In a while’
Then I smell the crispy bacon,
maple syrup, pancakes, more.
Morning comes in through my window,
I go racing out the door.
Australian Children’s Poetry 