Everywhere, flowers.
Everywhere, fragrance.
Everywhere, blooms,
Everywhere, bees.
Everywhere, sunlight.
Everywhere, colour.
Everywhere, life.
Everywhere, smiles.
Everywhere, everywhere,
spring!
Spring flowers photo by poet.
Green faces shining under the bright moon light,
Mr Chirrup’s choir took their place; antennae and tails sitting just right.
With one final check of his red bow tie,
Mr Chirrup picked up his baton and unleashed the choir to the night sky.
Tenor, baritone and bass harmonising together as one,
The tree branch they were standing on vibrating noisily enjoying the fun.
Distant stars twinkling brightly celebrating the sound,
For Mr Chirrup’s choir was star-ward bound!
If you listen quietly and hear crickets chirping this summer season,
More than likely, Mr Chirrup’s choir might be the reason!
Artwork: MR CHIRRUP THE CRICKET AND HIS CHOIR by Cindy Wider
If the sun is warm in the morning,
If the breeze begins to blow,
If I come to yours in a hurry,
Where will we both go?
If you run with me down the sand-dunes,
If the waves begin to curl,
If you jump with me in the ocean,
Then I’ll teach you how to surf.
Image from Pixabay
Doh ray me fah,
I’m going to be a music star!
Plinkety-plunk, plunkety-plink,
sounds pretty good, don’t you think?
Next, I’ll learn the violin;
I’ll tuck it underneath my chin.
I’ll slide the bow across the strings
and play all kinds of funny things.
Squeaky-squawk, squawky-squeak,
eeky-awky-awky-eek.
I can hear them clap for more
when they hear my music soar!
Herberton Historic Village, North Queensland. Photo by Ginette Pestana.
This grevillea inflorescence
is like a hairy Huntsman spider
lying up-side-down.
Delicate pink appendages,
fuzzed and curled,
make awkward question marks
from those posing bendy legs.
Will the next hairy Huntsman then,
seem a fuzzy flower
with curvy pistil tubes?
Perhaps…
if it is dead…
But, maybe that’s too sad to say.
It must be fun to run that way,
‘BOO!’
Teacher’s Note: Often called “Spider Flowers”, Grevilleas are Australian natives. The pistil is the curving part of the grevillea made up of style and stigma. Inflorescence is a fancy word for flower.
Image from Pixabay
Train leaving,
Train leaving platform nine,
Leaving platform nine in five minutes,
I repeat, train leaving shortly.
Train leaving, tickets ready,
Tickets ready, have your tickets ready,
Have your tickets ready,
Get your tickets, tickets selling fast,
Get your tickets,
Roll up, roll up, and get your tickets
Roll up, roll up…
The circus is in town,
The circus is in town, forget about the train,
The circus is in town, the train’s left anyway,
Next train, will be leaving from platform three,
Next train, leaving in five minutes,
It’s your choice, the circus is in town
It’s your choice, support the clowns
It’s your choice, there will be other trains.
Image from Pixabay
You’ll only find them here,
in the northern Kimberley —
whole colonies of palms
growing majestically.
Some reach thirty metres,
they seem to touch the sky,
bearing flowers and fruit
where the monsoons pass them by.
Livistona palms, native to the Kimberley in northern Western Australia. Photo by poet.
Please Note: Captain R Jaken’s “jackspeak” (slang) and vanity means he pronounces Kraken like his name Cray-ken.
Let thar be no mistakin’
Said Captain R Jaken
Don’t ever, noooooo never awaken the Kraken
If youse awaken the Kraken
Said Captain R JaKen
Knoooows this for sure, I’m not foolin nor fakin
The seas will start bubblin-n- squubblin-n-shakin
Jack tars-n-mermaids will be quiverin-n-quakin
Islands-n-light’ouse will be battered til breakin
Many-a ship for meals will be taken
All plans to go swimmin will needs be forsaken
Ain’t no myth I’m makin’
Said Captain R Jaken
Don’t ever, noooooo never awaken the Kraken
Image from Pixabay
Here it stands
in the Flinders Ranges,
in arid soil,
scarred by changes.
Still it stands,
hollow yet growing,
spreading shade,
no sign of slowing.
Loved by all
who come to see
Australia’s spirit
in one tree.
This iconic gum became famous in 1941 when photographed by Harold Cazneaux. This photo by Ginette Pestana in 2024.
How many tunes do we know
and how many songs can we sing?
Hearing those high notes and low
is making my heartstrings ring.
Our crickets sing faster or slow
with temperature ruling their timing.
Rubbing their wings like a bow
on some scratchy violin.
How many tunes do they know
and how many songs can they sing?
Their music will only flow
if it’s warm, beginning in spring.
Who are they chirruping to?
It’s strictly a lady’s thing.
Our cricket choir sings to woo
their girls with their carolling.
Artwork: Mr Charles Chirrup the Cricket and his Choir by Cindy Wider
