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Oh what a lovely swamp —
I can hear things going ker-plomp!
And even though it’s blue on top,
underneath it’s slop-slop-slop.
Birds swoop low, fish dive deep,
crocodiles open their eyes for a peek.
The trees haven’t seen their roots for years
and nothing is really what it appears.
It’s all very mu...
If I were a koala,
how happy I would be.
I’d have one branch for dinner,
and another one for tea.
There’d be no washing up,
and nothing else to do:
so I’d curl up nice and high,
and sleep an hour or two.
Photo from href="https://www.pexels.com/photo/close-u...
Tiny Dreamtime children, imprisoned in the earth,pierce the little tree roots to sip sap beneath the dirt.
For seven years, cicada grubs, as they scratch and dig,
keep getting so much bigger, keep popping off their skin.
One final time, they’re out – up a fence, up a trunk, up a shed.
I collect the shells they’ve left, when ...
It was hiding in the bush,
where only eagles soar;
it was hiding in the bush,
but I could hear its distant roar.
At first I saw a stream,
it looked nothing much at all,
then farther on I walked
and found the waterfall:
plunging over lava
the massive torrent fell,
tumbling to a...
railcars
silvery sleek
rattling, clicking, clacking
my very special adventure
outback
The Savannahlander train crossing a creek, North Queensland. Photo by Ginette Pestana
Teacher’s note: A cinquain is an unrhymed five-line poe...
