A group of giraffes 

is called a tower.

 

Each day, they sleep 

for less than an hour.

They’ll munch on leaves 

from acacia trees,

while ear-flicking flies 

in savannah’s breeze,

reaching up high 

with grace and ease …

 

giraffes shouldn’t need 

to climb those trees!

 

Celia Berrell

 

Helping Hands

 

Terrible things can happen,

that tear our lives apart.

They’ll rip at our roots,

blacken our view

and scorch into our heart.

 

Possessions then no longer

are things to which we cling.

Instead we’ll grasp

those helping hands

where love and hope can spring.

Soldiers smelled garlic;

horseradish; sulphur.

A kind of fusty

mustardy odour.

Then twelve hours later

they’d start to go blind,

get pus-filled blisters

and possibly died.

 

Chemist Fritz Haber

in World War One,

made mustard gas poison

worse than a gun.

This silently sneaky

chemical tool

spread crippling pain

that was very cruel.

 

Survivors were checked.

When blood tests were done,

most of their body’s

immune cells had gone.

They’d lost the white cells that

could turn into cancer.

Was mustard gas poison

a possible answer?

 

From a weapon of war

to helping the sick

this chemical cocktail

became our first pick

to fight against cancer.

A new remedy!

Oncology’s

chemotherapy.

 

Celia Berrell

 

A recent rain

to quench and share.

A cloudless night

to cool the air.

 

The slightest breeze

to chill on cue

the grass and leaves.

Here comes the dew.

 

The stage is set

for dawn’s sensation.

Jewel-studded

condensation.

 

Blanket-strewn

on grassy stems

are rainbow-sparkling

water gems.

 

First published in CSIRO’s Scientriffic magazine No 85, July 2013

My Wish  

 

Oftentimes, I wish that I,

like many, could impart

some wondrous words,

some hopes, some schemes,

escaping from my heart.

 

We’re 10cc’s of water and

although the Earth’s our base

we recently went travelling

up there – in outer space.

 

An astronaut had drunk us

just before his rocket ride.

And so we were the stowaways

that hid in his insides.

 

Meeting different molecules

we made a lot of friends.

With some we only mingled

while with others we held hands.

 

While staying in the astronaut

we all kept nice and warm

and floated round inside him and

explored his body’s form.

 

Eventually he moved us out.

So off we raced in glee.

With other friends I think we were

all classified as pee.

 

We found ourselves inside a box

with membrane walls all new.

Its holes were just the perfect size

for water to get through.

 

We said goodbye to all our friends

as they were far too fat

to wriggle through those membrane walls

and join us for a chat.

 

Now squeaky clean we hung around

inside some holding pen.

Until we found ourselves inside

the astronaut again!

 

There is a garden in my heart

where beauty grows in fits and starts.

Where smiles are petals from the flowers

bestowed by others from their bowers.

 

Nutritious hope reaps seeds to feed

my spirit for its every need.

With gratitude I’ll reach my goal

and touch the island of my soul.

The Garden Within by Celia Berrell was inspired by the painting Seeds of Gratitude by Sharon Davson

The Cat-Sock Dilemma

 

Hey diddle-diddle

a sock round the middle

when gently tied on my Cat,

will make her wiggle,

wobble and squiggle.

She can’t walk straight with that.

 

A slick little trick

that’s painless and quick.

There’s surely no harm in that?

We giggle, she wriggles,

goes higgledy-piggle

until she gets to lie flat!