The Emu and Wombat Worries

 One of my favourite subjects to write poetry about is Australia's native animals. I hope you enjoy  these next two.

The EMU

I am a bird but I can't fly
still, don't forget, before I die
I'll grow six feet with wide soft beak
grazing on grass, and snails to eat.

My legs are long. My feathers though
are quite unique, they doubly grow
and while they're thick, they look like hair...
on land I roam just anywhere.

Though I can't fly, it's known by few:
I'll run the socks off Kangaroo!
My husband raises chicks, not me,
he misses next year's courting glee.

But I'll be off courting again   
and lay more eggs if there's been rain,
but if there's drought I will not flirt
or build a nest in sand or dirt.

I live in Aus, down under there
where I've got status anywhere.
They all know me I'm saved from harm
because I'm on their Coat of Arms.


WOMBAT WORRIES
Now please don't try to hurry me,
for wombats have short legs you see.
We're rather plump and stout indeed
and never were we meant for speed.

We eat tough roots and sedge and grass;
sometimes the cars won't let us pass.
And farmers too think we're a pest,
when fences broke we failed their test.

This was my home till cattle came
and rabbits too, they know no shame
some wombats starved, till on they've gone
to live elsewhere, or die forlorn.

It's hard to dig in stony ground.
On high hillsides now we'll be found.
Though legs are strong enough to dig,
the burrow has to be quite big.

For many wombats live in one
and 30m long are some.
We wander down to softer ground
where grass is sweet and soft soil's found.


A creek bank makes a burrow fine
if mother wombat has the time.
When baby crawls from birth canal
to backward pouch, then he'll be well.

But mums and babies now are few,
I've not seen one at all have you?
And cousin hairy-nose retreated;
he's way down south, not quite defeated.