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  3. My Bed

My Bed

By Lucinda W

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Published 20 August 2015

My bed is bouncy. I can make it into a cubby. It is also warm and soft. But when it's morning the rooster over next door goes 'cock-a-doodle-doo'.

Project

Poetry Object 2019

Author

  • Lucinda W

    Lyneham Primary School
    Year 1
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Red Room Poetry acknowledges the Elders and Traditional Custodians of the lands, waters, sky and languages where we work, live and write. We are grateful to collaborate with First Nations people and aim to respectfully follow protocols as we move across Country.

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Ngurambang yali – Country speaks
~ Jeanine Leane

It’s been too long since I sat on granite in my
Country and thought

Too many years since I breathed this air—
Bunyi-ng—ganha
Felt this dirt—Ngamanhi Dhaagun
Smelt this dust—Budha—nhi Bunan

Listened for the sounds of her words that say
‘Balandha—dhuraay Bumal-ayi-nya Wumbay
abuny (yaboing)’—History does not have the
first claim. Nor the last word.
Nghindhi yarra dhalanbul ngiyanhi gin gu 
‘You can speak us now!’

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