A wilderness of tea-trees
In our paddock playground
One free day in the midst of childhood
A day filled with everything
We are wild things,
Charging, ducking, hiding,
Flies swatting our sweaty faces
A dove, startled, flies up and
Petals fall like a sprinkle of rain
As we play
Cowboys and Indians
With imaginary guns
Bang! Bang! You’re dead!
Falling to the ground face-up
Wisps of clouds slide above
As if breathing in and out.
Photo from Pexels by jonas mohamadi
i pluck weeds
by a white wall
come spring
i move the mower
over a mountain of green
come spring
i brush the rough
old deck clean
come spring
i look up at
all the weeds
growing in the gutter
In response to prompt Spring Has Sprung
How can flowers grow a beard,
And do they need to shave?
It seems a very funny way
For flowers to behave.
Do they use a razor,
Or will some clippers do?
I think bearded irises
Are rather weird, don’t you?
Upon arrival of September
There’s one thing I do remember:
Winter’s gone and spring is here
Bringing warmth back to the year.
Giving us more outdoor fun,
Extra time beneath the sun.
Walking barefoot on the grass,
Sipping fruit juice from a glass.
Football finals if you’re keen;
Horses racing on the green.
Pack your coats and gloves away,
Birds within your backyard play.
Birthing time for kangaroos,
Platypus and wombats too.
Blossoms grow with colours fair,
Pollen floating through the air.
Of spring I’m a great believer,
So why now must I have hay fever?
How can I smell a lovely rose
When suffering from an itchy nose?
I long to feel the evening breeze
Without an urge to cough and sneeze.
But let me cast those thoughts asunder;
Spring should be a time of wonder.
So sit beneath a shady tree,
Go watch the surfers at the sea.
I love the springtime sunset skies,
Albeit seen through teary eyes.
In a Polish village,
opening to the sun,
I found all these flowers
when spring had well begun.
What a splash of colour,
I was lucky to be there,
where ancient wooden houses
huddled round the square.
A custom cut from nose to butt
is what the “Mutt Hutt” does
Snipping, styling the latest trends
and shaving through the fuzz
In through the in door
disarrayed and dirty as can be
Out through the out door
transformed to a beauty queen
Pushing up through cold earth.
Determined. Never failing.
The green leaves set the stage.
Presenting – the grand unveiling.
Blushing petals open shyly,
Revealing more to the sun.
Frilly ruff thrown back in triumph.
Yellow face. Spring’s begun.
One willie wagtail sang a sweet song,
he was joined by another
before very long.
Two willie wagtails built a snug nest
with feathers and flowers
and leaves softly pressed.
Three willie wagtails perched in a tree,
mummy and daddy
and baby makes three.
The temperature is rising
There’s music in the air
From birds singing loudly
Their mating calls do fair.
Bare trees now blossom
As bulbs come back to life
The sweet call of Spring
The drake looks for his wife.
Colours surrounds us
On breeze a sweet scent rides
It’s full of new beginnings
It’s Spring where hope resides.
Big Bird Emu cannot fly.
Got long legs and big brown eyes;
slender neck and smiley beak;
stringy feathers, mega feet.
Big Bird Emu sits on nest.
Eight whole weeks, no food no rest;
nearly faint from heat and thirst;
wants those chicks to hatch out first.
Shading babies, outstretched wings,
eating grass and insect things.
Eighteen months ‘til they’re full-grown,
big enough, safe on their own.
Big Bird Emu dedicated.
Caring love for little babies.
Get too close might make him mad,
‘cos he’s their Big Bird Emu DAD!
https://kids.britannica.com/kids/article/emu/390741
https://www.bushheritage.org.au/species/emu
