I’m a dot.
No you’re not!
Yes I am.
Well, prove it.
I have curves.
You’ve got a nerve.
No I don’t.
Well, prove it.
See my shape.
Like a crepe?
That’s not round.
Yes it is.
Well, what are you?
I’m a spot.
No you’re not…
by Melanie Hill
I hate it when it happens
and I bet you hate it too.
You’re just walking on the footpath
and there’s dog-poo on your shoe.
And your friends say ’Phew!
I don’t want to sit with you
‘cause you just trod in dog-poo
and there’s dog-poo on your shoe.”
I know the dogs can’t help it.
Dogs just do what dogs just do.
But, owners, when you walk your dogs,
please collect the poo.
Kate said: “M.Y.D.B.” is to be ‘published’ as a laminated sign on the grassy footpath near a Bush-care site I work on. For obvious reasons.
Where can I find a secret space:
A place that’s just for me,
Where I can go and no one know,
Or looking, fail to see?
There none will tell me what to do,
Nor doubt that what I say is true.
Captain I’ll be – without a crew,
There in my secret place!
Joys that I have, who then, will share?
Who’ll cheer me up, when life’s not fair?
Who, when I’m hurt, will quickly care,
There in my secret place?
Here’s my new plan for what to do:
Search for a secret space for two!
No secret place that’s just for one
Can have all I want to make it fun.
Monty Edwards
Monty Said: Although time hidden away in private can be a welcome relief from people or situations, it has its drawbacks. I want readers young and old to recognise that we all need other people to truly enrich our lives and then take the initiative by being a friend to someone else.
Ho Kookaburra
can’t sing a note –
all of his songs
get caught in his throat.
Ho Ho Ho Ho Ha Ha Ha,
it sounds easy but it’s not
as he scrapes and cackles, saws away,
it’s the only song he’s got.
It’s enough to make you laugh –
that’s the one thing he can do…
Try to copy him – Ho Ho Ho Ho
Ha Ha Ha Ha Ho Ho Ho Ho
Ha Ha Ha Ha Ho Ho Ho
Katherine Gallagher
Katherine says: This is a fun poem when done in class as everyone joins in.
In my head
Words are running around
Pushing and shoving
Trying to get out
Use me first
No, use me first.
That’s
Enough
I
Say
Please
Form
A
Nice
Orderly
Queue
Thank
You
Very
Much
Pat Simmons
When I see both red and white,
I think about a fabled fight
That took place long ago.
A soldier brave rode out to save
A maiden from a dragon’s cave.
That dragon was his foe!
With lance aloft and poised to pierce,
George rode toward that dragon fierce
And struck a lethal blow.
Then all at once its fiery breath,
Extinguished by its sudden death
Was scarcely seen to glow!
The horse, once white, was quite a sight
With blood-red smears gained in the fight:
A most courageous steed!
Without his horse, St George, of course,
Would hardly be a fighting force
And likely, first to bleed!
In fighting flame, George made his name.
When vict’ry came, he gained great fame.
“The man’s a saint!” folk cried.
Now freed from fear and full of cheer,
They praised St George one day each year,
Long after he had died.
The story grew as stories do.
I fear that few may think it true.
I leave the verdict up to you.
Monty Edwards
Monty said: Lacking inspiration, I began to focus on the colours in the prompt, rather than the shapes. I grew up in the St George district of Sydney, my sisters attended St George Girls’ High School, while I followed and participated in St George sporting teams, all featuring red and white in combination. It was time to research the legend and begin to acquaint a new generation with it.
I’m standing in queue,
With you, you and you,
Feathered comrades all waiting to pay.
At the front sits an owl,
With a permanent scowl,
Give me patience! I’ve been here all day.
I’ve forms in my pinions,
And formed an opinion,
That registrations take too long.
At last it’s my turn,
With the owl looking stern,
Asking questions about right and wrong.
His queries abated.
How long I had waited!
Then he handed me paper and quill.
I loudly protested,
At the figure suggested,
So large was the size of my bill!
Lynelle Kendall
A grain of sand on its own,
A tiny world
in the palm of your hand.
But still, nothing much…
Add millions of other grains,
Shape them with sea-water
And you’ve got a sand-castle.
Next add trillions and trillions of grains Getting there…
And zillions and zillions more —
Now you’re talking!
Dianne Bates
Dianne says: I brainstormed for a long time listing all the close encounters a child might have — animals, insects, aliens and so on. Finished up on a beach with a child looking at starfish. It was only when I thought of sand, zillions of grains in close encounter with one another, that I thought of what happens as a result. Hence this beach poem!
A binocular becomes a monocular, dear
If you forget to remove
One of the covers while tossing the other
What are you trying to prove?
Being like Nelson applying the eye
To a scene that you just cannot see?
Blind eye a’turning to half of the scene
That’s what it seems to me
Red tape, policy, jargon and all
Means nothing is seen in its breadth
Binocular or monocular, dear?
Use both eyes and you’re winning on strength
So remember removing both lens caps today
Will give you binocular vision
While squinting through one (while it might be more fun)
Will send half your senses to prison.
Sally Odgers
It’s summer
and it’s holiday.
The morning is
so big
it’s going to last
all afternoon
and the night
will have to go
home.
Kate O’Neil
