I saw a tree
full of crows,
crows in rows,
rows and rows.
How many crows?
Heaven knows!
(Teacher’s note: The collective term for a group of crows is a murder, a horde, a hover, a mob, a parcel, a parliament, even a storytelling of crows.)
Tag Archives: James Aitchison
The Desert Oak by James Aitchison
Leave a commentThey stand in desert heat and chill,
Needles drooping as in sleep,
Millions of them resting still
Upon the vast red plain.
Invincible, their roots run deep,
And after fire they grow again.
In response to TREES Prompt
The Shetland Pony by James Aitchison
Leave a commentI’d love a Shetland pony,
not too high but low.
What a gentle ride he’d be,
not too fast but slow.
I’d love a Shetland pony,
the colour of a bear.
But how does he see where to go
through all that long, long hair?
(Teacher’s note: Shetland ponies originated in the Shetland Isles, located northeast of mainland Scotland. They are very hardy and have survived the harsh Shetland climate since the Bronze Age.)
Tree Hugging by James Aitchison
Leave a commentHold me, hold me, hold me tight,
I get frightened in the night
by those birds and possums too,
I feel safe when I’m with you!
In My Dreams: a nonsense poem by James Aitchison
Leave a commentWhen I go to sleep at night,
I dream of lots of things.
Blue spaghetti and bowls of fruit,
A four-legged man playing a flute,
A buffalo with purple wings,
A refrigerator taking flight.
That’s why I like to stay awake
And think of triple-layered cake.
I Found A Whale by James Aitchison
Leave a comment(in response to Prompt #4)
I found a whale
made of stone,
sitting by the creek
all alone.
How it got there
I don’t know;
stuck on shore,
nowhere to go.
Teacher’s note: Whale Rock is one of many rock formations at Wilson’s Promontory National Park.
Our Garbage Man by James Aitchison
Leave a commentOur garbage man comes once a week
To empty out our bin,
He takes away everything
That Mum and Dad put in.
I wonder if he looks inside
To see what we’ve thrown out.
(All my worn out underpants
Would make him scream and shout!)
All our rotten vegies,
All our stinky cheese,
All the food that has expired,
Travels on the breeze.
No wonder he speeds off each week,
He doesn’t hang around.
With so much putrid garbage,
His wheels don’t touch the ground!
“The Plastic Pacific” & “Otter Snot” by James Aitchison
Leave a commentTHE PLASTIC PACIFIC
How much plastic is in the sea?
Fifty-one trillion pieces!
Fifty-one trillion ways to kill
all our ocean species.
Choking, snarling, killingwhales, turtles, and fish;
unless we stop dumping toxic trash
our oceans will diminish.
OTTER SNOT
Does
an otter
have snot
or not?
Whether or not
an otter has
snot,
I know
not.
James Aitchison
Fingers in the sky by James Aitchison
Leave a commentIt seems to me
that I can see
fingers in the sky.
Cloudy fingers,
each one lingers,
as I’m passing by.
See Salt by James Aitchison
Leave a commentHave you ever seen salt
far from the sea?
Salt that’s still as salty
as salt can ever be?
It’s salt in far Lake Tyrell,
a salty lake, you see,
and tastes even saltier
than salt does from the sea.
Teacher’s note: Lake Tyrrell is a salt-encrusted depression in Victoria’s Mallee district.
