Casanova Can by Kylie Covark

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 Casanova caterpillar

Had a bold ambition,

He wouldn’t be a butterfly

(Though that was the tradition).

He’d seen the others growing wings

And didn’t fancy that,

Instead he’d shed some letters

And turn into a cat.

Cousin Costa chaffed him.

“It cannot be”, he said,

“Come on Casanova,

You’ve really lost your head.”

“I can! I can! I can!”

Casanova cried.

He could do most anything

If he only tried.

And when it was the moment

To weave his own cocoon,

Casanova said “Farewell,

I’ll be a real cat soon.”

And so with bated breath,

(It really was a thriller),

He wished away the e and r

And the entire pillar.

And then oh joy of joys

The time came to be free,

And life was so much lighter,

As just a C-A-T.

By Kylie Covark

“The Singing Spaniel” by Jeanie Axton

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Lee and Jazz

On the grass

Ukulele in hand

Learning fast

Tune in the air

Jazz’s ears prick

She starts to sing

Learning real quick

Songs in the garden

Float down the street

A boy and his dog

Sounding so sweet

A bond forged in music

A love made to last

The sounds of friendship

In music is cast

Jeanie Axton

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Fluffy Thermometer by Celia Berrell

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 There’s plenty of ways

to tell if the day is

too hot or cold

without being told.

 

You could try and catch

a fluffy pet cat

then watch and observe

to see how it’s curved.

 

When days are too hot

it’s likely as not

that cat’s all sprawled-out

in some shaded spot.

 

When researchers test

what temperature’s best

for comfort of cats

they find out these facts.

 

Those felines agree

that eighteen degrees

is purr-fectly warm

for cat’s furry form.

 

Then when it’s too cold

those pussycats fold

up cosy and still

to keep out the chill.

 

 

“Progression” by Virginia Lowe

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Progression

 

She showed it

to her slavedriver

who saw the possibilities

He promoted slave Hannah

to supervise

the sawing team

 

Before,

hundreds pulled the immense stone block

on its log rollers

A team of twenty waited at the back

to grasp the log-load

when it had been run over

The back log had to be

hauled to the front

to be run over yet again

 

If only the stone could stay still

on the logs while they kept rolling

Clearly impossible. Hannah scowled

But a slice of log sawn from one end

would roll the same way

With a hole in the middle

supporting – well we’d call it an axle

and a second round piece from the log

On her model it worked perfectly

Wheels! Wooden wheels!

The first cart

 

Wheelbarrows, trains, cars, trucks

cogs, pulleys, clocks,  machines

 

Life on earth would never be the same.

 

Virginia Lowe

Warm and Fluffy by Celia Berrell

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The animals have hairy fur.

The birds have got their feathers.

These keep their bodies warm enough

throughout the chilly weather.

 

The fibres in those fluffy coats

criss-cross to form some air-holes

that can’t escape or waft away

because of all the hair-folds.

 

Their skin gives off some body-warmth.

Just like a radiator.

Their fluffy coats help keep that heat

as thermal insulators.

 

The warm air’s trapped inside the fur

to shield them from the outside.

The way that blankets on a bed

are cosy on the inside.

 

But if that fluffy coat gets wet

those air-holes fill with water.

Their body’s warmth escapes as that

wet coat’s a heat conductor.

 

The soggy fur clings to their skin.

No longer insulated.

And water makes their body cold

as it’s evaporated.

 

Any fluffy animal will

shake that water well away.

So if your puppy’s had a swim …

Watch-out for all that water spray!

 

 

Poem of the Day

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Squirrel Sightings

 

Have you ever seen a squirrel? You may think them rather cute,

But they’re certainly not stupid, for they’re really quite astute.

They take notice of the weather when the winter’s on its way

And store all the food that’s needed for each coming frosty day.

For that is when they snuggle in the hollow of a tree,

Or they hide among the bushes where they’re difficult to see.

 

Every squirrel’s quite a builder when it wants to make a nest

So that as things get much colder there’s a place for warmth and rest.

If you should see a squirrel when you’re at the park to play,

Don’t be too disappointed if the squirrel darts away.

Watch him hurry, scamper, scurry, for you’ll seldom see him walk.

Perhaps he’s just too busy to take time to stop and talk.

 

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #30

Poetry Prompt #30

Monty says: I enjoy writing poetry for the opportunity it gives to inspire, challenge or entertain people I may never meet personally. I also enjoy attempting to conquer such constraints as form, meter and rhyme by my choice and arrangement of words in order to produce my own unique response to a theme or prompt. For me it is like tackling a complex puzzle for which there may be many possible solutions, but few that are completely satisfying as an offering to potential readers.

 

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

Prompt2

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

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Am I a poet?

by Jenny Erlanger

 

Today we had to write a poem

and so I took the time

to think of all the words I could

that sound as if they rhyme.

The teacher said, “Don’t worry

finding special words to fit,”

then read us out a funny poem

that didn’t rhyme a bit.

So then I worked at trying to rid

the rhyming from my head,

to concentrate on verse

that didn’t rhyme at all instead.

At first I didn’t have a hope,

the rhymes kept coming back

but I tried really hard

and wrote the poem

you’re reading now,

but somehow

it just doesn’t

sound right.

  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #5

Prompt5

 

Jenny says: Writing rhyming poetry has played such a big part of my life since childhood, that despite my own efforts to break out of the mold at times, I keep returning to it as a means of self-expression.

Poem of the Day

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A Reason to Rhyme

by Monty Edwards

 

Must our poems rhyme

ALL the time?

No. Not so.

Don’t you know

Some verse is free

Like a fish in the sea?

But personally, I prefer my fish

Served on a regular dish

(With chips).

  • Prompt5 Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #5

 

Author Comment: The poem is something of a joke at my own expense, since I find it difficult to break the rhyming habit, but sometimes the ideas in a poem refuse to yield to the constraints of rhyme. This is admitted by the final line of the poem.

Poetry pointers

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To rhyme or not to rhyme?

Where do you get ideas? How do you write a poem? Do poems have to rhyme? What makes it a poem if it doesn’t rhyme? Who publishes poetry? How do I become a children’s poet? What is your top tip for writers who want to write poetry for children?

These are among the myriad questions asked by writers who want to write poetry. How would you answer them? If you have a poetry pointer to share, email me at traffa-m(at)bigpond.net.au