Author Archives: australianchildrenspoetry

The Blues by Monty Edwards

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The Blues

 

Most people would say blue’s a colour: the colour of sky and the sea

And If I should happen to ask you, I fully expect you’d agree,

But blue is much more than a colour: believe me, it really is true,

Because if you don’t, or you just simply won’t,

I might have a real blue with you!

 

For blue is not always a colour. It’s a blue when we argue or fight.

When our faces are red and some heated words said,

It’s a blue that we’re having all right.

A blue, then, is not very pleasant and we may be left feeling quite bad

Should that happen to you, you’ll be feeling quite blue,

Which is simply to say you that you’re sad.

 

You may hear a person called “Bluey”, or “Blue” if the name is made short.

It’s said as a joke to a red-headed bloke:

One with hair of the gingery sort.

But if you’re a loyal Australian and value this land and its ways

Then we’ll call you “true blue” and think highly of you,

For the “true blue” are people we praise.

 

Now even when blue IS a colour, we’re not always sure what to think.

We know it’s not green like a pea or a bean, and it’s hardly a yellow or pink!

But it could be a sky blue or navy. It might be an aquamarine,

Or baby blue, cobalt or turquoise, for these too may sometimes be seen.

So before you say “blue”, take a moment or two

And  make sure you make clear what you mean!

 

Monty Edwards

Monty says: “As I thought about the different colours, I was struck by the range of uses of the word “blue”, and also the various shades in which the colour blue may be seen. I thought it might be helpful to children and new Australians to explore this in a poem.”

 

Lying on the Beach by Monty Edwards

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Lying on the Beach

 

One day I saw a bottle that was lying on the sand.

I asked: “Why are you lying?” Then I grabbed it with my hand.

The bottle made no answer and it gave a glassy stare:

It clearly felt it had a right to spend time lying there.

I saw a drip form on its lip and thought it was a tear,

Which seemed to say: “Just go away and leave me lying here.”

But I’d been taught that lying was a serious sort of sin,

So straight away, without delay, the liar went in the bin!

 

Monty Edwards

Monty says: The idea of using word play for this poem came while working on another poem in response to the same prompt.

Patrick Platypus by Wendy Price

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PATRICK PLATYPUS

 

Patrick Platypus’s

Work was arduous

For he was trying to remove a pumpkin

From his hole where it had sunken.

He asked help from Myrtle the turtle

And her face went really purple

When she pushed and prodded

But her effort was dogged

And together they moved the pumpkin

From his hole where it had sunken.

 

Wendy Price

Wheels Song by Katherine Gallagher

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Wheels Song

 

I don’t know why I’ve got feet

when I could have had wheels,

for wheels go so much faster.

 

Imagine me flying down our street

not in my trainers or boots

but on wheels, with my ghetto-blaster.

 

Imagine people turning to stare

and all telling me to slow down

before I caused a disaster.

 

Imagine me gliding off into space

with a quick little nod to the Moon,

then simply going straight past her. . .

 

© Katherine Gallagher

Published in Through a Window, Longman, 1995

Fancy Dress by Pat Simmons

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Fancy Dress

A Halloween party was held near the creek.

Preparing the costumes took almost a week.

Several koalas in purple were cloaked.

A curled up echidna was prodded and poked

into a hollowed out pumpkin shell, where

she peacefully slept and was quite unaware

that first prize went to platypus dressed in his skin.

No costume was needed for this guy to win.

 

Pat Simmons

School Daze by Allan Cropper

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SCHOOL DAZE

My mind is muddled, I feel befuddled,

bewildered and confused.

I think the space inside my brain

has been completely used.

There’s no room left for algebra,

or history or dates,

So I’ll be marching out of school,

please open up the gates.

What’s that you say? You’ll ring my mum?

You’ll call my dad as well?

Well, silly me, there seems to be

some room left in there still.

I guess I’ll stay and learn some more

until the final bell.

© Allan Cropper

Beach Bottle by Monty Edwards

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Beach Bottle

 

The bottle looked lost as it lay on the sand.

Perhaps it had fallen from somebody’s hand.

It seemed to be empty, but still had its lid

Whoever had dropped it must know that they did.

Or had it been lost from the deck of a boat,

With air trapped inside having helped it to float,

Until borne by the waves and washed up by the tide

It was left on the beach at the end of its ride?

 

Still, no one had claimed it. The bottle was mine!

It looked to have once held some cider or wine.

I bent down and grasped it, then held it up high

To check if inside it was thoroughly dry.

I found it not empty as first I had thought,

But rather, inside was a note of some sort!

I opened and read what was written within:

“Please take this old bottle and throw in the bin.”

 

Monty Edwards

 

Monty says: While working on this poem for the bottle prompt a second poem using a different approach to the same prompt was conceived.

Cuttle Wish by Celia Berrell

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Cuttle Wish

 

Cuttlefish arms are in the place

where most of us would have a face.

Front-on they look like elephants

with lots and lots of tiny trunks.

 

Their skin can change its colouring

to make their bodies blend right in.

Their eyes have slits like wavy lines

instead of pupils round like mine.

 

Safe in their see-through eggy shell

Cuttlefish babies see quite well.

Before they’re old enough to hatch

they’ve seen the food they wish to catch!

Celia Berrell

Celia said: At birth, human babies have blurry vision.  It takes a while to master how to focus on different things.  In contrast, a cuttlefish’s eyes are fully developed before they hatch from their see-through egg.  Just imagine being able to see all the food you want eat floating by … but you can’t get to it!  Is that like having a blurred appetite?

 

 

Lucky by Kristin Martin

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Lucky

 

My class is so lucky.

This term we’re learning about life cycles,

so my teacher brought in some tadpoles-

three big black commas

swimming around in a plastic aquarium

right beside our desks.

 

We named them

Freddo,

Kermit

and Spot.

 

Freddo was the first to grow

stumps

legs

more legs

then his tail shrunk

until his body was a fat full stop.

 

‘But what do we do with our frog?’

asked Mrs Chugg with a frown.

My hand shot up quicker than a speeding mosquito.

‘I’ve got a pond!’

So, she poked some holes in a butter tub

and sent Freddo home with me.

‘Lucky duck,’ said Ben.

 

I carried my precious passenger

down the street

around the back

then knelt beside our weedy pond

and gently tipped him in.

 

Freddo swam to a lily pad

half scrambled on and gazed around

at the water

reeds

insects

and grassy bank

before frog-kicking into the murky depths.

 

Compared to Kermit and Spot

with their four plastic walls,

I’d say he’s pretty lucky.

Kristin Martin