
Category Archives: Australian children’s poetry
“Yard Cricket” by Ron Marsh
Leave a commentYARD CRICKET
On pleasant summer afternoons,
My dad and I play cricket.
The dog he loves to chase the ball,
So he’s behind the wicket.
Our yard is small,
And so the ball
Is not hit very far.
But if we hit a window,
We cop a blast from ma.
I hit a whopping six some days.
That’s when it goes next door.
And if the neighbour gets upset,
We take that off the score.
When dad is batting I get scared.
I wish my gloves were leather.
He hits them fast, and most get past,
As I clap my hands together.
“Possums and Pumpkins” by Ron Marsh
Leave a commentPOSSUMS AND PUMPKINS
I planted a small pumpkin seed,
Hoping that in time,
I’d have a crop of pumpkins,
Growing on the vine.
I did not think of possums,
Those pesky climbing”rats”,
If only they would fall from trees,
And please me with the splat.
They ate up all the pumpkins,
They were not even ripe,
And then attacked the parsley,
I think it gave them gripe.
They damage all my fruit and veg,
It isn’t very fair,
I’m not allowed to chase them,
Or even pull their hair.
I guess I’ll have to just sit back,
And let them have their way,
And buy my fruit and veg, on
Sunday market day.
“Sun Burned” by Julie Cahill
Leave a commentSun Burned
Sun and surf, holidays and laughter
unless the sunscreen is slapped on after
the sun bites in and blisters appear
our hat blow off and lobsters adhere
our tents lay flat and our drinks slide away
sand-witches zap our bread into hay
buckets grow holes and spades lose their handles
and wouldn’t you know it, we break our sandals
our towels turn all crunchy, the barbie explodes
the tide washes out and the shore erodes
the sand grows so hot that we scurry like mice
wishing we’d taken the experts’ advice
‘Global warming,’ they had warned us ahead
so we tread more carefully and change the thread
care for our planet; reap new choices we’ve made
wearing sunscreen and hats; we play in the shade
holidays arrive . . . we all survive
‘Cheers!’ A toast with cool lemonade.
“Veggies for tea” by Louise Pocock
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“Darling, here’s some broccoli
And spinach soup for tea:
With garlic, chopped potato
And a stick of celery.”
“Mum, I’d really much prefer
A juicy t-bone steak!
And don’t forget my veggies
Roasted in a carrot cake!”
“Ballet” by Ron Marsh
Leave a commentBALLET
I went to ballet lessons,
I had to learn some French,
Like cabriole and brise,
And even battement.
There’s chasse, cinq and coda,
And sometimes pas de deux.
So I gave up and told my mum,
To sell my new tutu.
“The Boomerang Returns” by Jeanie Axton
Leave a commentThe Boomerang Returns
Throw the boomerang high in the sky
Watch the ancient hunting tool fly
Throw it straight and throw it long
Up above this tool belongs
Try a lob and give it a boost
See it returning come home to roost
Keep on flinging into the sky
Practice makes perfect
Give it a try.
“Kowloon — 9 Dragons” by Zachary Downie
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Below is a poem by Zachary Downie. He is a 14-year-old Australian expat and currently studying at West Island School in Hong Kong. Zac is Robyn Youl’s Grandson and has written a poem about the region of Hong Kong known as Kowloon and the legend and history behind it.
1278,
There was a boy called Bing, he was 8.
He had just been crowned emperor of a doomed dynasty.
We see a boy, his subjects saw a dragon.
His subjects saw mountains, he saw fellow dragons.
He saw 8 dragons;
He saw 8 friends;
He saw 8 guardians to help him rule his kingdom.
He spoke to them:
First, P’u-Lao, my noble protector;
Alert me to danger.
Second, Ch’iu-Niu, I need music in my court;
You are my musician.
Third, Pi-Has, my lucky scholar;
Help me to learn, my friend.
Sometimes, I am lonely;
Stand by me, Pa-Hsia, in times of need.
My guardian, Chao-Feng;
Watch all that is holy: my temples and my lands.
Kublai Khan draws closer;
Douse the flames of war, Chih Wen.
Suan-Ni, keep my subjects at my side;
Keep my courtiers loyal, keep my soldiers strong.
Yai-Tzu, I am only 8 and yet I lead my people into battle;
Protect me from harm, or at least don’t let it hurt too much.
And I, Pi-Kau;
I will listen to my subjects.
I will settle their quarrels.
I will hear them and sometimes listen.
I am 8, I can do this.
1279,
Kublai Khan had won.
Bing’s dynasty is defeated.
His loyal general, Lu Xiufu, picked up the boy and leapt into the sea.
An honourable death for a boy who named a city.
Kowloon, today;
8 mountains guard a sleeping boy:
The 9th dragon.
“The Queue” by Jan Darling
Leave a commentTHE QUEUE
‘Oh please let me in’ said the bear who was grizzly
‘I’m doing a show, I don’t want it frizzly.’
He tugged at his hair, that fussy old bear
‘I’ve just had it dyed, it used to be fair’.
Those waiting in line just smiled at each other
Ev’ryone happy to help their brother.
A worm who was third from the start of the queue
Was shivering hard and fast turning blue
‘What’s wrong with this bus? It’s broken down?
Will anyone ever get into the town?’
The town was twinkling and bright with its light
Some in the queue were starting to fight.
A big bird with a bandage around one wing
Started to dance the highland fling
A pelican said to a stork ‘It’s outrageous,
I do hope this madness is not contagious.’
The stork looked at him squarely and quietly said
‘I wish I were home and tucked into my bed’.
Three canaries were singing (they’d been to a dance)
The song they were singing was written in France
They yodelled and trilled all over the scales
They even tried singing the song of the whales.
They ordered some orange and cherry ice cream
Enough to feed a whole basketball team.
The ice cream arrived and the queue they went crazy
Except for the piglets – they’re terribly lazy
They wanted some oak nuts, acorns they’re called,
They said they grew hair and no-one was bald
Maybe it’s true that nuts cover the scalp
But nobody there needed that kind of help.
The crowd suddenly hushed and fell into silence
Somewhere behind was an outbreak of violence
A basketball team had arrived with some melons
Those in the crowd believed they were felons
(people who steal from others their treasures)
Getting caught redhanded was one of their pleasures.
The whole scene looked stupid to Harry the Horse
Who was trying to study the subject of Morse
He tapped and he paused and waited for action
His hoof immune from outer distraction
He tapped dah dah dit, di dah, dah and dit
If it worked he would make a quick dash for it.
Did you hear of that Harry’s ultimate fate?
His message was read and – opened the gate
Harry leapt forth and came in number nine
And met a young filly he thought divine
When Harry proposed she promised to tryst
‘Cos Harry had asked with a flick of his wrist.
Well you might think that this is all rot
That all horses can do is gallop and trot
But Harry believed he could dominate fate
By placing his faith in the power to create
A message he’d sent by dah and by dit
Had stretched his talent and used his wit.
Dah dah dit, tapped in Morse will give you a ‘g’
Di dah gives you ‘a’, dah and dit ‘t’ and ‘e’
So Harry the Horse repeated his offer
Confirmed he was humble and empty his coffer
But Tilly the Filly was thrilled with his Morse
And she happily neighed ‘Oh Harry, of course’.
Sorry I am, about this diversion
I have an aversion to total immersion
The queue got itself rattled
They all tittle-tattled
The bus arrived late and was slow to unload
But who jumped out first?
Of course – the toad.
“The Octopossum” by James Aitchison
Leave a commentThe octopossum
The octopossum lives by the sea;
no marine creature’s stranger than he!
A bushy tail and eight long arms,
with one big eye to complete his charms.
Even mighty whales avoid this beast;
they take one look and head nor’-nor’-east.
No shark swims near the octo-p.,
for fear the latter eats it for tea.
The octopossum can be gentle,
but one thing always drives him mental:
to avoid his rage and his grief,
we must save the Great Barrier Reef!