Australian poetry | |||||||||||||||||
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This page is for my wife Joan, she was born in hull and migrated to Australia with her family at the age of seven, I had better not say what year but it was a few years ago. We have raised four children in that time. She began to write poetry of and on years back, but in the last few years has started to be more productive. This year we joined the Australian Bush Poets in Perth Western Australia. Here is a sample of her work GOD'S TEARS When a baby dies God sheds a tear, And a bright new star is born, To eternally shine - every night, Till the break of each new dawn. Last night I searched the evening sky, For the newest, brightest, star, A tiny one, that twinkled in time, With the beating of my heart. My pain filled heart - my empty arms, Screamed in silent anger, As I combed the heavens for the star, That would give my feelings anchor. To that tiny child I had held, So tenderly in my arms, When suddenly I heard God whisper, With a voice so kind and calm. It's not easy, I know - for one to lose, A cherished child - a part of you, But know - this child is in my care, Your angel your star - will - for you be there. So hold tight to your love, try not to cry, Watch your babe grow, within your minds eye, Look for the star, with the brightest shine, Your child is safe, with their hand in mine. joan macneall 98 | ||||||||||||||||
| AUSTRALIAN HUMOUR | |||||||||||||||||
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IN THE LAND DOWN UNDER In the land down under Near the arsehole of the earth Where diggers, mates, and vegemite, Were all given birth. Where a farmer is a cocky, A cockatoo - is a galah, It's home to kangaroo, and Uluru, And the Holden car Where girls are known as sheila's Red heads are all called blue, And G'day you old bastard, How the hell are you, Is not a slander on your birth, But simply means - you're bonza It's just another way of saying, I see ya mate - goodonya. The girls are really grouse down here, If you see one and you like her, Get in there mate, and say G'day, Or you'll be called a piker A piker, what is a piker? I can hear you thinking, A piker runs out on his mates, As fast as a lizard drinking, It's where your mates are cobbers, And the laughing jackass cries, And from coast to coast, East to west, live a hundred million flies. But watch out for the stickybeak, That fair old blabber mouth, The one that broadcasts all the goss', The loud mouth of the south What's really beaut is damper, Cooked by the drovers boy, It's a bushies bread that's eaten hot, And smothered in cocky's joy, Cocky's joy hails from Queensland, Where banana benders live it up, It comes from ripened sugar cane, Now known as golden syrup. There's Aborigines, and dreamtime, Pavlova and jackeroo, Sandgropers and Croweaters, And the Didgeridoo It's where the diggers meet on Anzac Day, And later for beer and two up. It's where Matilda did that famous waltz, Then pinched the bloody jumbuck. Now there is ridgeydidge and dinky-di, Fair dinkum and true blue, They mean it's great, it's good, it's tops, It's bonza or it's true. In Oz we don't say two times, Here we all say twice. There's crocodiles, with great big smiles, But they're not very nice, There's boomerangs and billy tea, A place called Bungle Bungle, Snowy mountains, desserts dry, And forests thick like jungle. When you visit the land down under, Near the arsehole of the Earth, Come and say G'day to W.A. And meet the friendly folk in Perth. Joan Macneall | ||||||||||||||||
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