Tag Archives: poems for children

Discovery by Pat Simmons

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Discovery

 

Our feet make a crackling

crunching sound

as we walk.

We stop

and

crouching down,

discover another world.

A world of mini workers

caring for our environment.

Beetles breakfasting,

Meandering munching millipedes,

Snails, showing off their spirals,

Earthworms turning the soil.

 

Lives under leaf litter

A secret space.

 

Pat Simmons

Pat says: Ever since I was a child I’ve loved mini beasts (some would call them creepy crawlies). During my career in children’s services as a child care educator, teacher and trainer I delighted in sharing my passion with children by taking my ‘minibeast family’ to child care centres.
As a writer, they still inspire me and, yes, I still have a collection of critters including stick insects and rain forest snails.

A Secret Space by Di Bates

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A Secret Space

 

There was shelter –

An upturned water tank

With an entrance hole —

My secret space

In the brittle summer bush

Where I’d hide,

Dark and bruised and splintered.

 

In those childhood days

I was an outlaw of sorts,

Travelling alone,

Not fitting anywhere,

Listening to cicadas throbbing

With song,

Beyond words,

Wanting nothing

But the arc of my mother’s arms.

Dianne Bates

The Keyhole by Walter de Jong

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The Keyhole

 

Our cave we called the Keyhole,

we’d climb up there to see

the ferry carrying families

that drove out to the beach.

I’d sit there and imagine

floods rising high back then

to carve for us this keyhole

then rejoin the world again.

That door opened secretly

to millennia before

the cars, the ferry, boats and planes,

schools and rules and laws

And now…The ferry’s gone, and rust has taken

cars and boats and planes.

While I move on the Keyhole stays,

the secret place remains.

 Walter de Jong

Arrivals and Departures by Jenny Erlanger

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Arrivals and Departures

 

You’ll soon be walking through that door.

I can’t stay still a moment more.

I’m racing up and down the floor.

Can’t wait to say hello!

 

I’m here again with teary eyes

as everybody hugs and cries.

The air is filled with sad goodbyes.

Can’t stand to see you go!

Jenny Erlanger 

Supersnail by Monty Edwards

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Supersnail

 

I may not have a backbone,

But I’m brave as brave can be.

Just take time to observe me,

Then I’m sure you will agree.

My enemies are giants tall

And armed with hoes and spades!

They stomp around my picnic spots

And hurl their flashing blades!

 

Yet these will not deter me,

Since it’s clear that I must eat

The greens left lying in my path:

How beautifully sweet!

I bravely dodge the missiles

And the bomb-like boots from heights.

Such perils do not kill desire

To scoff down such delights!

 

When climbing I am carefree:

Though high may be the wall,

I cling to ledges upside down

And never fear to fall.

So do not doubt my courage.

Admire my spiral shell!

Call me “a mighty mollusc”

And “Supersnail” as well!

Monty Edwards

Santa’s New Clothes by Teena Raffa-Mulligan

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Santa’s New Clothes

 

Santa had a problem for his suit no longer fit.

It was snug around the tummy. When he sat, his trousers split.

One bight and early morning, Mrs Santa said:

“My dear, I must tell you something that I read.

I love you roly-poly, I love you as you are,

but if you took a health test you wouldn’t get a star.

It’s really most important to have a healthy heart

and if you want a long life, it’s not too late to start.”

Santa called in at the health club—the trainer checked him out.

She said: “We’ll plan a program that will work without a doubt.”

She booked him in for workouts three times every week,

then talked about his diet and told him what to eat.

He ate lots of fruit and vegies, chose grilled instead of fried

for every single main meal, with salads on the side.

He said no to morning tea cakes and had carrot sticks instead.

Whenever offered sweet treats, he firmly shook his head.

Santa also started walking quite early in the day

and soon those extra kilos began to melt away.

He said: “I feel fantastic, this year will be a breeze.

I’ll deliver all those presents without the slightest wheeze.

I won’t get stuck in chimneys or struggle up steep stairs

or stop to have a rest whenever I see chairs.”

Then on Christmas Eve, a problem as Santa dressed to leave.

His suit no longer fit him except for length of sleeve.

His top was loose and baggy where tight it was before,

and when he pulled his trousers up, they slid down to the floor.

He looked at Mrs Santa. “Whatever will we do?

Perhaps some safety pins? Could you sew a seam or two?

We need a quick solution for I really ought to go.

The children are all waiting and I can’t be late, you know.”

Mrs Santa nodded and tried to hide a smile.

“Thank goodness it’s late shopping. This will only take a while.”

So that’s why this year Santa won’t be wearing his red suit.

He’s got a brand new outfit. Mrs Santa thinks it’s cute.

It’s a bright red fleecy tracksuit for warmth in North Pole cold,

and a pair of sporty sneakers replacing boots of old.

For his head a woolly beanie instead of pom pom cap.

So if one Christmas evening you should glimpse a bearded chap

who looks a lot like Santa except he’s fit and trim,

don’t think that you’re mistaken, for yes, you’re right, it’s him!

Teena Raffa-Mulligan

Gargoyle Guile by Kate O’Neil

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Gargoyle Guile

 

Like it or not

I am glued to this spot,

left in the lurch

on a perilous perch

exposed to all weathers,

bird-bombs and feathers,

no shelter at night,

a face like a fright,

with a monstrous chin

and a phony grin

that’s just an excuse,

a ridiculous ruse

for making a drain

to spew out the rain

away from the wall

of this cold stone hall.

Day in and day out

I do nothing but spout

the run-off and grime

and the muck and the slime

from up on this roof –

I feel such a goof.

In fact, I’m offended

at being wrong-ended

with backward digestion –

so here’s a suggestion:

if means could be found

to turn me around

I could hide my face

from the human race

and I wouldn’t need words –

I’d behave like the birds

and the message I’d send

would be through my rear end.

Kate O’Neil

Favourites by Jenny Erlanger

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Favourites

You might like the Crunchie, an excellent pick,

this miniature, choc-coated honeycomb brick

or what about something the colour of cream?

If that’s sounding tempting, then try out the Dream.

There’s Dairy Milk, Picnic and Mint Bubbly too,

all of them sitting here waiting for you.

If fruit mixed with coconut’s what you like best

the Cherry Ripe option is what I’d suggest.

There’s smooth Caramello and crumbling Flake.

It’s not such an easy decision to make.

This might be the last time we’re offered such treats.

You’d better choose wisely from all of these sweets.

But just let me warn you, we don’t want a fight.

So stay right away from that Turkish Delight!

Jenny Erlanger