The Big Book of Verse for Aussie Kids Page 3

  Now the word

  that was heard

  by each creature and bird

  was to come and to form a bush band.

  All were keen

  to have been

  in a bush muster scene

  so they came from all parts of the land.

  Wallaby

  you will see

  plays keyboard on her knee

  while a possum blows on a trombone.

  Everyone’s

  having fun

  now the muster’s begun

  so much talent nobody had known.

  Kangaroo

  and emu

  blow on didgeridoo

  and dingo’s saxophone’s really beaut.

  While big Matt

  the wombat

  gives a rat-ta-ta-tat

  on the drums which is really a hoot.

  But, Joe Blake

  the black snake

  keeps the whole band awake

  as he plucks double bass with his fangs.

  And three crows

  on banjos

  show they’re truly musos

  as each claw on the strings really twangs.

  But the stars

  with guitars

  were thirteen pink galahs

  as they made rock-and-roll come alive.

  While old Jock

  the big croc

  did the crocodile rock

  and two platypus show how to jive.

  Bandicoot’s

  looking cute

  as she blows on the flute.

  There’s a choir of white cockatoos.

  Their loud screech

  it can reach

  from the bush to the beach.

  You should hear them sing jazz and the blues.

  So this band

  understand

  is now best in the land

  and they’re planning to tour far and wide.

  Their motto’s

  ‘have-a-go’

  for sometimes you don’t know

  just what talent you have there inside.

  HIGH EXPLOSIVE

  AB ‘Banjo’ Paterson

  ’Twas the dingo pup to his mum that said,

  ‘It’s time I worked for my daily bread.

  Out in the world I intend to go,

  And you’d be surprised at the things

  I know.

  ‘There’s a wild duck’s nest in a sheltered

  spot,

  And I’ll go right down and I’ll eat the lot.’

  But when he got to his destined prey

  He found that the ducks had flown away.

  But an egg was left that would quench

  his thirst,

  So he bit the egg and it straightway burst.

  It burst with a bang, and he turned and

  fled,

  For he thought that the egg had shot

  him dead.

  ‘Oh, mother,’ he said, ‘let us clear

  right out

  Or we’ll lose our lives with the bombs

  about;

  And it’s lucky I am that I’m not blown

  up—

  It’s a very hard life,’ said the dingo pup.

  A HUNGRY DINGO

  Anonymous

  Said a dingo when hunger beset him,

  To see what his cunning could get him,

  ‘Mrs, ’Roo, can I crouch

  And look in your pouch?’

  But her joey said, ‘Mummy, don’t let

  him!’

  WHO’S THERE ?

  Max Fatchen

  If you hear a dinosaur

  Knocking loudly on your door,

  Through the keyhole firmly say,

  ‘Nobody is home today.’

  If the bell should start to ring

  Tell the beast, ‘No visiting.’

  If you see there’s more than one,

  Turn around and start to run.

  PLATYPUS AND KOOKABURRA

  Rex Ingamells

  Platypus and Kookaburra

  sat on a stump of gum,

  watching streaks of sunset glide

  and hearing insects hum.

  The streaks were blue and red and green;

  the insects had a yellow sheen.

  Said Platypus, ‘If I but knew

  the way to fly, I’d be

  a Platyburrakookapus

  and live up in a tree.’

  Said Kookaburra, ‘I’ll be blowed;

  the river-bank has overflowed.

  ‘My feet,’ he said, ‘are getting wet;

  the water’s touching us.

  O, how I wish that I could be

  a Kookaplatyburrapus

  so I could safely splash and scud

  through pools of deep and gorgeous mud.’

  Upon that instant Bunyip came

  and said, ‘Your will be done:

  you’ll both be what you want to be

  by rising of the sun.’

  At that the streaks of blue and red

  were gone and stars were there instead.

  The morning came, as mornings do;

  but what a morning that!

  A Platyburrakookapus,

  with beak as flat as flat,

  crouched on a gum-branch high aloft:

  and when he tried to laugh he coughed.

  And, flopping in the mud and water

  of the riverside,

  a Kookaplatyburrapus

  tried and tried and tried,

  but tried in vain, to show that he

  was clever—for he couldn’t be.

  That night the Bunyip came and climbed

  the highest gumtree limb,

  and Platyburrakookapus

  was soon inside of him;

  and then he ate without a fuss

  poor Kookaplatyburrapus.

  MY DINOSAUR

  Jim Haynes

  My dinosaur can cross the street,

  He’s very careful with his feet,

  He doesn’t squash the folk we meet,

  ’Cos that would just be awful!

  He always crosses at the lights

  When he goes out alone at nights,

  I’ve told him, ‘Don’t get into fights,

  And don’t be loud and roarful!’

  He usually comes home by eight,

  He tiptoes in through our back gate,

  And sleeps in our backyard till late,

  He’s very very snoreful!

  It’s hard to hide a dinosaur

  In our backyard and I’m not sure

  If the neighbours mind, what’s more—

  I don’t know if it’s lawful!

  When he wakes up it’s time for lunch,

  I give him Coco Pops to munch,

  He eats them with a mighty crunch,

  Without milk, by the clawful!

  He gets sad sometimes ’cos he knows

  His family are extinct I s’pose.

  I give him hankies for his nose,

  Good job I’ve got a drawerful!

  MUTTA BURRASAURUS

  Milton Taylor

  Where the swamp is green and slimy,

  Where the ground is black and grimy,

  That’s where HE’LL be—Oh Blimey!

  MUTTABURRASAURUS.

  And if he comes to track us,

  He’ll use his tail to whack us,

  He’ll jump on us and crack us.

  MUTTABURRASAURUS.

  He’ll use his teeth to gnaw us,

  His long toe-nails will bore us,

  He’ll chew and chomp and claw us.

  MUTTABURRASAURUS.

  He’s really so gi-normous,

  His fiery breath will warm us,

  Into blobs of glob he’ll form us.

  MUTTABURRASAURUS.

  We’ll quietly go a-creeping,

  And hope he won’t be peeping,

  Then, roaring, come out leaping.

  MUTTABURRASAURUS.

  If
we see him there before us,

  Let’s hope he’ll just ignore us,

  We’ll say he never saw us.

  MUTTABURRASAURUS.

  THE DINOSAUR CLIMBER’S KIT

  Stephen Whiteside

  If you’re planning on climbing the long row of spikes

  That runs up a dinosaur’s spine, straight and neat,

  Wear boots made of steel, or else you’ll say, ‘Yikes!’,

  As the razor-sharp spikes put holes in your feet.

  If you’re planning on climbing a dinosaur’s back,

  It could take all day, so you’ll need stuff to munch;

  Some toffee, a drink, and a nice little stack

  Of sandwiches that you can eat for your lunch.

  If you’re climbing a dinosaur, right to the top,

  Take a very long stick upon which you can lean,

  And never look down—it’s a mighty long drop.

  You’ll feel very sick, and your face will turn green.

  The view from the dinosaur’s head is just dandy,

  And when you arrive, you can sit down and rest.

  Binoculars here can come in quite handy.

  The view from the dinosaur’s head is the best!

  Take a parachute also, strapped tight to your back.

  On a dinosaur’s head you can run into strife.

  If the dinosaur’s cross, and decides to attack,

  Say your prayers very quickly, and jump for your life!

  2

  All around

  Australia

  WALTZING MATILDA

  AB ‘Banjo’ Paterson

  Once a jolly swagman camped by a

  billabong,

  Under the shade of a coolibah tree,

  And he sang as he watched and waited ’til his billy boiled,

  ‘You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.’

  Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,

  You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.

  And he sang as he watched and waited ’til his billy boiled,

  ‘You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.’

  Down came a jumbuck to drink at that billabong,

  Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee,

  And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag,

  ‘You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.’

  Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,

  You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.

  And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag,

  ‘You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.’

  Down came the squatter, mounted on his thoroughbred,

  Down came the troopers, one, two, three,

  ‘Where’s that jolly jumbuck you’ve got in your tucker bag?

  You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.’

  Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda ,

  You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.

  ‘Where’s that jolly jumbuck you’ve got in your tucker bag?

  ‘You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.’

  Up jumped the swagman and sprang into

  the billabong,

  ‘You’ll never take me alive,’ said he.

  And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong,

  ‘You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.’

  Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda ,

  You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.

  And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong,

  ‘You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.’

  WATTLE

  Jack Moses

  The wattle is our native gem;

  I love its flower, leaf and stem.

  If bird and bee sip honey there

  Why should I not the wattle wear?

  It is the emblem of our land;

  The seed was sown by God’s own hand.

  He put the scent and sunshine there;

  Why should you not the wattle wear?

  Joy is with us every hour

  When spring brings forth our golden flower,

  Sent to drive away our care,

  Sent for you and me to wear.

  SONG OF THE WATLE

  Veronica Mason

  The bush was grey a week today,

  Olive green, and brown and grey,

  But now the Spring has come this way

  With blossom for the Wattle.

  It seems to be a fairy tree,

  That dances to a melody,

  And sings a little song to me,

  The graceful swaying Wattle.

  Before the wind a maze it weaves,

  Golden down in feathery sheaves!

  A misty whirl of powdery leaves

  The dainty bowing Wattle.

  Its boughs up-lift their golden gift,

  Sprays of yellow, downy drift

  Through which the sunbeams shine, and sift

  Their gold dust o’er the Wattle.

  The bush was grey a week today,

  Olive green and brown and grey,

  But now it’s sunny all the way,

  For Oh! the Spring has come to stay

  With blossom for the Wattle.

  KALGOORLIE

  Grahame Watt

  At Kalgoorlie there’s quite a fine miner,

  And at digging there’s no miner finer,

  In two years and a day,

  He’s dug all the way,

  To just due south-west of North China.

  WONDOAN

  Anonymous

  If ever by chance you are goin’

  Out west to the town of Wondoan

  Save yourself trouble, please,

  Do not pack your skis,

  Wondoan is not known for snowin’!

  SUNSET IN PERTH

  Russell Hannah

  A view that’s been a joy to me,

  Is sunrise, where the sky meets sea,

  And when it does then you can bet,

  That over land, the sun will set.

  But in Perth it’s rather strange,

  The sun pops up behind a range,

  Which leads me to a funny notion,

  That it slips down into the ocean.

  I’ve run this problem through my mind,

  And one solution can I find,

  That is of course, in Perth at least,

  That EAST IS WEST and WEST IS EAST.

  THE AUSTRALIAN SUNRISE

  James Cuthbertson

  The Morning Star paled slowly, the Cross hung low to the sea,

  And down the shadowy reaches the tide came swirling free,

  The lustrous purple blackness of the soft Australian night

  Waned in the grey awakening that heralded the light;

  Still in the dying darkness, still in the forest dim,

  The pearly dew of the dawning clung to each giant limb,

  Till the sun came up from the ocean, red with the cold sea mist,

  And smote on the limestone ridges, and the shining tree-tops kissed;

  Then the fiery Scorpion vanished, the magpie’s note was heard,

  And the wind in the sheoak wavered and the honeysuckles stirred;

  The airy golden vapour rose from the river breast,

  The kingfisher came darting out of his crannied nest,

  And the bulrushes and reed-beds put off their sallow grey

  And burnt with cloudy crimson at the dawning of the day.

  GAMES WITH NAMES

  Max Fatchen

  Bedgerebong and Kooloonong

  Take spelling that’s adroit

  While Kooweerup you should look up

  Be careful with Koroit.

  If La Perouse seems better news

  Though some prefer Menangle,

  A good hard look at Quambatook

  May help you sort the tangle

  While Yackandandah’s nice verandahs

  Surround each pleasant villa

  Dandongadale will make me pale—
br />   I’m fine with Cowandilla.

  Tangambalanga, Quorrobolong?

  Pronouncing them I’ve tried.

  I’ll wait until, at Broken Hill,

  They get my tongue untied.

  PLACES

  Anonymous

  There’s Cowpastures and places like that,

  There’s an Eagle Farm and a Wombat,

  There’s a Buffalo Range,

  All animals strange,

  That would knock a poor Kangaroo Flat.

  MELBOURNE

  Anonymous

  We may not have Circular Quay,

  But in Melbourne we’re smug, for you see,

  When it comes to football,

  We’re the envy of all,

  And we do have the old MCG.

  THE MELBOURNE CUP

  Lesbia Harford

  I like the riders

  Clad in rose and blue;

  Their colours glitter

  And their horses too.

  Swift go the riders

  On incarnate speed.

  My thought can scarcely

  Follow where they lead.

  Delicate, strong, long

  Lines of colour flow,

  And all the people

  Tremble as they go.

  NIGHT CRICKET

  Max Fatchen

  Cricket at nights

  Beneath the lights

  Before the shouting crowd.

  The shriek, the squeal,

  The fierce appeal

  Alas, it’s disallowed.

  Cricket at night

  The ball in flight

  And every fieldsman tense.

  Square leg and slips

  And Coke and chips

  And banners on the fence.

  More overthrows,

  The chanting grows,

  The pitch will take a thumping.

  The keeper’s glove

  Will snatch and shove

  To take another stumping.

  The moon is high.

  My mouth is dry

  With eardrums nearly splitting.

  The oval’s green

  But have you seen

  Such hurricanes of hitting?

  A sudden shout,

  He’s out, HE’S OUT!

  And, oh, the crowd’s delight,

  Caught in the deep.

  Who wants to sleep

  With cricketing at night!

  THE MURRAY, MATE

  Gregory North

  From Mount Jagungal’s groaning girth the Geehi gurgles, ‘Go!’

  As sunlight of the springtime starts to shed the ice and snow.

  With basalt body breaking through, behold the Big Bogong,

  Releasing silver streams to start a journey, oh so long.

  From Kosciusko’s soaring side the snow subsides again,

  To pour and plunge and then become the River, Swampy Plain.

  On Geehi Flat the rivers merge to face the Devil’s Gorge.

  With all the Snowy’s western shed, the river can but forge.

  With granite gown, The Pilot gazes over grassy ground,

  Where warmer water weeps away from springs without a sound.

  It makes its movement north, meandering midst Murray Gate.