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Quondong Conkers
 



Quondong conkers was all the rage
for kids in our schoolyard, any age.
Quondongs, delicious native fruit
made wonderful conkers and I had a beaut!

First thing, to chew off the yummy flesh,
not ones mum had cooked but nice and fresh
Uncle Jack let us borrow his drill,
(A nice old bloke but over the hill),

A tiny hole in the seed...right through,
then thread through some string...knitting wool wouldn't do.
The game was played, kids all 'round a ring,
my seed in the middle, me holding the string.

Somebody else would swing their seed,
SNAP went the strings with amazing speed.
If neither cracked the next shot was mine
and so it went on, seed, kids and twine.
The winner was the seed that didn't break
and, of course, in the end it was pride at stake.

But my fondest memories of quondong time
was mum's quondong pie, a treat sublime.
Sweet and tangy with custard served,
after schoolyard victories, treat deserved.











By cherryk

© 2019 cherryk (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - As a kid______I loved to play (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - As a kid______I loved to play (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - As a kid______I loved to play (challenge has been closed)


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