Words Of The Heart by Jeanette Swan

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(in honour of Mother Tongue Day)

Remember remember the songs of your Grandma.
She sings and her words live in you.

Remember remember the gold of the old words
that carry her love that is true.

With chatter and clatter the kids in the school-room
are talking in words you don’t know.

Some words are for working, some words are for singing,
some words are like seeds that will grow.

The story of family is hiding in sayings
of mothers and fathers and aunts.

The melody, history, promise and poems
are magnets that stick to your heart.

Image from Pexels by Andrea Piacquadio

Zombie Treat or Trick by Erica Chester

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In Zombie Land each year
As Halloween is getting near
The zombie kids all flip their lids
In excitement … and in fear

For all around their zombie town
The spider webs are coming down
The city street is looking neat
And a smile now replaces a frown

A friendly giggle replaces a groan
Front lawns look so freshly mown
The filthy floor is cleaned once more
And all the scattered leaves are blown

The kids all shop with zombie force
They’ll have no zombie buyer’s remorse
They change their mind at least one time
They’re dressing as humans of course

They hide their greenish zombie faces
With make-up from expensive places
Brushed hair, perfumed here and there
They leave no zombie traces

They happily skip along their street
They hope for a trick or at least a treat
They wave and smile, chat for a while
And maybe even enjoy a sweet

Tomorrow is back to roaming around
Making a horrible groaning sound
Feeling down, wearing a frown
And sleeping under the ground

Image from Pexels by Mike Jones

Kindness by James Aitchison

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Kindness is the biggest thing,

kindness makes the whole world sing.

Bigger than the mountains here,

deeper than the lakes appear,

kindness makes our lives worthwhile,

kindness always makes us smile.

When you show kindness anywhere,

it means the world that yes, you care.

New Zealand mountains seen from helicopter. Photo by Ginette Pestana

A Careless Spark by James Aitchison

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The fires came through the other day,

blazing fierce, no warning given.

A careless spark, a flash of red,

and then it grew, by strong winds driven.

It jumped the road, it charred the land,

firefighters fought it, no houses lost.

But this was home to wildlife too;

in terms of them, who’ll count the cost?

After the Dean fire near Creswick, Victoria. Image courtesy of Gina Pestana

Cricketing Around by Meryl Brown Tobin

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Did you call me a grasshopper?
No way; I’m a cricket.
I’m one of two hundred eggs
my mum laid in the soil.

Do you reckon I look
like a mini-adult?
Sure I do because I shed my skin
as I grow and get a new one.

Notice I don’t fly much at all?
Why? Because I can’t––
my wings are too small.
See, I jump, jerk my way around.

Notice the tooth-like bits on my wings?
Only males have them. Listen, I can
rub them together. Hear a chirping sound?
It attracts the cricket chicks.

Ever heard me chirping at night?
That’s because I’m a nocturnal guy
and coldblooded so I liven up in the warm.
I’m warm now––hear me chirp.

Look out, here comes a lizard!
Hide me––I don’t want to be its snack.
Or a frog’s, a big spider’s or a tortoise’s.
Me, I love yummy fungi, plants, insects.

See my fancy compound eyes?
They let me look in many directions at once.
Check out my antennae, my feelers––
they pick up movement, help me catch prey.

Japanese and Chinese people reckon
I bring good luck. So make sure you’re nice to me.

Image from Pexels by Johnny Mckane