Category Archives: Australian children’s poetry

Picnic by Lynelle Kendall

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Picnic

 

Will you come to lunch with me,

Upon the grass, beneath the tree?

Will you bring a mat for three,

And picnic ‘neath the sky?

 

Yes, I’ll come to picnic there.

The grass is green, the day is fair,

And then we’ll play without a care,

My two best friends and I.

 

I’ll bring the fruit and fairy bread,

Cool drinks and cups and (as you’ve said)

A mat with checks so bright and red,

To sit on ‘neath the sky.

 

We’ll feast and laugh and climb and run

Our picnic day will be such fun!

We’ll spin cartwheels and when we’re done

We’ll watch the clouds go by.

 

Then when the sun is sinking low

And stars are warming up their glow

Fold up the mat, it’s time to go

We’ll bid a fond goodbye.

 

Until we meet again my friend,

We’ll bid a fond goodbye.

Lynelle Kendall

How to Get Rid of Peas by Jenny Erlanger

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How to get rid of peas

 

Slip a couple up your sleeve,

that way you can’t go wrong

but first take care the sleeves you wear

are pretty tight and long.

Then accidentally bump your plate –

that should get rid of more.

Your Mum would never make you eat

the peas that hit the floor.

Another thing that’s hard to do

but really worth the wait

is slip some peas when no one sees

onto your sister’s plate.

And then (don’t say I told you)

if you’re desperate I suppose

you could shove some up your nostrils

and then quickly blow your nose.

By now you should have lost the lot.

If not, may I suggest

you think of other ways yourself

to deal with all the rest.

Jenny Erlanger

 

First published in “Giggles and Niggles” (Haddington Press, 2007)

Is it Food? by Stephen Whiteside

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FOOD inside an orange egg.

So, you want to pull my leg?

Not an egg and not a fruit.

Is it food? The point is moot.

 

Letters help to form a face.

Judging by their size and place,

Eyes comprising two big “O”‘s.

Nothing there to serve as nose,

But all’s not lost, no, have no fear,

For “F” and “D” each serve as ear!

Stephen Whiteside

Tegan the Vegan by Sioban Timmer

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Tegan the Vegan

 

Tegan the vegan

Won’t eat meat

She says fauna are friends

Not food we should eat

If it runs or blows bubbles

Brays, baas or moos

It‘s not destined for dinner

Or handbags or shoes

 

Tegan the vegan

Won’t eat meat

She can’t stand the idea

That her food once had feet

She munches on mushrooms

Scoffs spinach and greens

Eats vegies galore

Gobbles all the good beans

 

Tegan the Vegan

Won’t eat meat

She moves to the rhythm

Of her own silver beet

And while it’s not understood

By all those she holds dear

Her tummy is full

And her conscience is clear

Sioban Timmer

Super Swimmer by Monty Edwards

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Super Swimmer

 

Sammy the seal loves to swim in the sea.

He eats fish for breakfast and eats fish for tea.

He doesn’t much mind all their bones and their scales,

For he swallows them whole from their heads to their tails.

Then once he is full he is ready to rest

And a rock in the sun is the spot he likes best.

 

When Sammy is swimming a shark may glide past.

And that’s time for Sammy to move very fast!

For Sammy is smart and has more than a hunch

That a shark thinks a seal makes a rather nice lunch!

Since sharks have sharp teeth like the points on a saw,

They’re clearly a threat that no seal can ignore.

 

If sometimes you find him asleep on a beach,

Make sure that you keep yourself out of his reach,

For if you should rouse him and give him a fright

He may be upset and get ready to fight.

So better by far that you give him no cause,

Since though without fists, he has very strong jaws!

 

Monty Edwards

Monty said: I liked the alliterative possibilities of Sammy the seal for the opening line of the poem, but soon realised why I had chosen Sammy and not Sally. Not only are there seals in the area quite close to where I live, but also an opportunity shop run by Good Samaritan Industries as “Good Sammy’s” with a seal featured in their logo!

 

My Greens by Kristin Martin

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My Greens

 

There’s a broccoli in my wardrobe

and a cucumber by my bed.

Something green was on my pillow

but now it’s green goo on my head.

 

There are lettuce leaves by my mirror,

some snow peas in my drawer,

and I think I saw a brussel sprout

lurking behind my door.

 

I don’t know what they’re up to

or what any of this means.

But if I want my bedroom to myself

I’d better eat my greens.

 Kristin Martin

    Percy Possum by Katherine Gallagher

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    PERCY POSSUM

    Percy Possum

    swings his brush-tail,

    leaps from roof to roof

    on a goodnight-trail.

     

    He hunts for insects,

    a midnight feast –

    if he finds some eggs,

    he’ll really be pleased.

     

    The night is quiet,

    the stars are dim.

    He wishes they’d shine

    a bit brighter for him.

     

    Katherine Gallagher

     

     

     

    What the Smoke Says by Jessica Nelson

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    What the Smoke Says

     

    This smoke floats

    With light airy whispers:

    ‘Marshmallows,

    ‘Roast potatoes,

    ‘Billy tea,

    ‘Fun by the sea.’

    It points to the sweetest one

    Points at me.

     

    This smoke floats

    Heavy and dark,

    It billows and bellows:

    ‘Crisped leaves

    ‘And crimson sun

    ‘Embers are falling,

    ‘Fire is burning,

    ‘I’m your alarm,’

    It points with the wind,

    Says: ‘Time to flee.’

    Jessica Nelson

    Rose is Red and Violet’s all Blue by Ken Williams

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    Rose is red and Violet’s all blue

     

    Rose loved painting,

    Violet loved it too.

    Rose painted with red,

    Violet with blue.

     

    They crept out of bed,

    To paint in the night.

    But Mum came in,

    ‘Aaaagh!’ And got such a fright.

     

    ‘Sorry Mummy,’ said Rose, all red.

    ‘Sorry Mummy,’ said Violet, all blue.

    ‘It’s okay, my little monsters,

    ‘I know what to do.’

     

    Mum drew a big bath,

    And plopped them both in.

    Whooshed them round,

    And into a spin.

     

    The monsters spun round,

    Splished and splashed.

    Water whirled round,

    And both colours clashed.

     

    Now Violet wasn’t blue,

    And Rose was not red.

    ‘Yippeeee!’ they cried,

    ‘We’re purple instead!’

     

    Now Mum feeling faint,

    Took out some more paint.

    ‘Perhaps some white,

    Will fix them all right.’

     

    The water whooshed round,

    And down the sink.

    ‘Aaaagh!’ wailed mum,

    ‘My monsters are pink.’

     

    Nanna came in,

    with a towel so green.

    She scrubbed while she dried,

    Until they were clean.

     

    Not purple or pink,

    Or blue or red.

    But finally all green,

    And ready for bed.

    Ken Williams

    Anything by James Redmayne

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    Anything

     

    With your hand in mine, you can do anything.

    You can climb the stairs

    You can cross the road

    You can shuffle your feet through the soft warm sand to get to the edge of the sea.

     

    With your hand in mine, I would do anything.

    I would climb a mountain

    I would build a road

    I would swim all the oceans and rivers and lakes for you, my child

    And for me.

    James Redmayne

    James said: This was one that I bounced around for a while after my daughter first learned to climb the stairs in our home. The poetry prompt triggered me to dig it out and rework it a little.