The Poetic Life 2.0

Ever Majestic, Those golden crowns, Floating on their royal branches, Long bendy and green brown. Baby gum nuts clustered close, Strong, so hard and round, Hidden by an army of lush leaves, Protected way above the ground. Red, blue, and spotted too, Swaying softly in a cool breeze, Evergreen eucalyptus home, For koalas, birds, bugs and bees. Grounded roots through tall tops, Standing tall for all to see, Aussie landmark through and through, Gumtree beauty for you and me!

Majestic waterfall crashing down, Silent ocean, not a sound, Rain upon a dusty plain, Reducing a drought of pain. Crystals of ice so cold, Perfectly beautiful and yet so old, Water in a mountain stream, Clouds above begin to dream. Rivers running seaward bound, Nothing but mud to be found, Water falling from the sky, Quenching thirst ever so dry. Farmers dam of mud and muck, Distant lake without much luck, Water coming from the ground, Whirlpool swirling all around. Water covering the earth, Mountain top to seaside Perth, Shades of white to darkest blue, Crystal clear as light shines through. Fresh to salt, clear to mud, Total destruction within a flood, Essential for all existing life, Necessity for housebound wife. Water completely polluted, Can only somehow be diluted, Child so small unknown of better, Rainforest so much more wetter. Deadly frost so light and weak, Snow cover is such a treat, Water so scarce,

Sitting on the porch one hot dusty afternoon, My mind began a wandering off away, to a glistening golden sandy beach, Where palm trees back 'n' forth calmly sway. Crystal blue ocean waves softly break, On the luxurious soft, sun warmed sand, Seagulls quickly scavenge for their food, Children with seashells in their hand. Moon and Sun rising from an ocean horizon, Playful dolphins jumping up through the sky, The sound of waves crashing on nearby rocks, People staring at giant whales swimming by. Then a gust of hot, dry, dusty wind, Blows right through my outback garden, Snapping me right back to my reality, Dreamland now must grant my pardon.

Long, dusty beaten tracks, Along the mighty Darling river, Where goannas and snakes, Run, climb and slither. Where kangaroos bounce, And big brown emus run, Flocks of cockatoos shriek, Under a blazing hot sun. Hot winds of dirt and grasses, Small spiralling vortex storms, Blistering heat all through the day, After a cool, pleasant morn. Communities close as families, Many a truckie in his mack, Vast open spaces through to bush, A different world, the dusty outback.

Small, soft, rubber like, Slowly reaching for the sky, Widening as it slowly grows, Till complete maturity is nigh. Growing right up through its top, Getting rather thick and very tall, Roots slowly stirring right through, Like sticky water in a tiny little ball. As it's maturity grows so, so close, Ever near to its very highest peak, As the future looks so vastly clear, The past is now real dark and bleak. Then winds gust and thunder roars! Sticky sap now bellows on up inside, As a hot volcano builds to violently, Rupture right across the countryside! Then ever all so extremely suddenly, It's very own top completely explodes, Everything just goes all everywhere! Then around again its cycle goes.

An idea... or a dream, Plants a seed inside, Creating excitement a plenty, Which can be pretty hard to hide, Yet voicing it at this early stage, Can create a rather short 'n' bumpy ride. Then quietly comes a mountain, Of research that must be done, To see what might have to happen, For it to receive an informed run, 'N' although it can be quite overwhelming, Persevere... research can be a ton of fun! Gradually it starts it's growing, Despite the obstacles in the way, Clawing it's way steadily through, Not knowing if all this work will pay, Yet still it grows on notwithstanding, Surrounding negativity and challenges each day. Then come competitors in plain sight, Leaving for whatever their reason, Even with doubt playing it's evil hand, It views quitting equal to treason, Thus on it continues growing, Throughout this challenging season. Finally it starts observing, All the hard work paying off, Over

Rolly, Polly, Fluffy puppy, Bouncing across the cactus fields, Dragging his new toddler friend behind, Future loyal fun this pup will greatly yield. His fluffy coat, white, black and tan, Learning how to ever so very fast, Growing up amongst the mulga scrub, Loyal and loving to the very last. Moving from one house to the next, No longer out in the dry grey scrub, Now living in a civilised backyard, But still knowing how to be a grub. Dad to a boisterous puppy litter, One stayed to grow by his side, Every bit her fathers daughter, Alas she was first that died. Over a decade you lived in our lives, But in our hearts forever, Gorgeous Border Collie Keg, Friendly, loyal and clever.

'Twas a warm January afternoon, Overhead 'twas a mostly blue sky, With wind blowing to the stormy south, Yet a mysteriously mighty storm 'twas nigh. First came a few heavy rain drops, Certainly nothing to phase, An odd bit of lightning from thunder far, Still nothing to cause a craze. Suddenly rain started bucketing down, Drenching the dry spotted ground, Soon 'twas followed by light hail, & wind blowing everything around. Next moment it started swirling, Creating a touch of panic, Branches, wind, debris and ice, Thickly spinning round in manic. 'Twas uprooting trees 'n' breaking branches, Damaging fences and buildings alike, Leaving almost nothing upon it place, Be it a plant, chair or a childs bike. Eventually it quietened to a calm, Although still electronic and overcast, Damage 'twas assesed in it's multitude, Cleaning up 'tis now to be tasked.

Tick, tock, tick, tocks the clock upon the wall, Sending a quiet reminder out to one and all, Whether it be flying on by, right away from you, Or crawling along slowly till it finally strikes two, That time is still continuing, even if it seems so still, And how you use that time is what can really kill. Perhaps you're a child sitting patiently in a class, Just waiting anxiously for the rest of the time to pass, Someone waiting in a long line at a rather busy store, After shopping around for their purchases galore, A fisherman waiting on his biggest catch to bite, Or maybe you're waiting for  next Saturday night . The nervous groom awaiting his beautiful bride, An equestrian waiting for their next big ride, A pregnant mother awaiting her unborn child, Whose fears and anxiety go from severe to mild, To think at some point down the future track, She will be waiting for her 'help' to come on back. We seem to spend a lot of time ju

Hush a bye, my little one, Your big days all done, It's now time to close your eyes, Though you're still awake, It's now really quite late, Please drift off to dreamland skies. Hush a bye, my little one, This is no time for fun, Now close your weary eyes, In the morn you can play, And have fun all day, Go drift off to dreamland skies. Hush a bye, my little one, You've now had your fun, Please just close your eyes, The suns gone to sleep, And the nights dark and deep, So drift off to dreamland skies. Hush a bye, my little one, Your sleep times now come, So shut those gorgeous eyes, You can play in the morn, When you wake after dawn, Now drift off to dreamland skies. Hush a bye, my little one, The sandman's magics begun, It's dream time for those sleepy eyes, Lay down your sweet head, In your comfortable bed, And drift off to dreamland skies. Hush a bye, my little one, In the morn you can run, For now please rest your e

Over the dusty red plains,  Riding his chestnut horse, Is a man with skin of leather, Great mind of mental force. Pride that of a rich man, Glazing upon his riches, A mother of a soldier boy, Lying await in dusty ditches. Kindness that of a gentleman, Courting a lovely young lass, Strength that of a small bull, Grazing on fresh green grass. He has utmost determination, To complete any task at hand, The Bushman works vigorously, Across this sunburned land. On a crisp, clear crystal night, Round a campfire he be found, Telling stories of his great life, Becoming legends to go around. 

A seed, If given the chance, And just the right space, Can start its life's dance, Growing a little and learning a little, Till it blooms to entrance. Ever Evolving, To survive in its world, Preparing its future offspring, So that they in turn may thrive unfurled, From life long lessons already learned,  And stand confidently tall instead of timidly curled. Alas, one day, It's life comes to an end, Devastating loving beholders, Whom now grieve in their own blend, Of life tasks never ending, All on hold whilst this one they send. Eventually though, They must clamber on out, Of the negative hole they've been thrown, Infuse the passed throughout, Inspirational new ideas, lives, seeds, Arising to take them on their route. The climb however, Can contain, treacherous, tough terrain,  Some slip a little whereas others fall, Gaining grazes or stabbings of negative pain, Thus they now learn new ways to climb, New stre

Pretty little mister Bluebird, Perched on little a bushy twig, Singing your chirpy little song, Your own personal private gig. Pretty little mister Bluebird, Your feathers of bright sky blue, So easy seen amongst the brush, Yet so small and delicate are you. Pretty little mister Bluebird, Quickly yet so swiftly you do fly, Wherever you may happen to be, You're well camouflaged into the sky. Pretty little mister Bluebird, Young children you quickly delight, Whilst you're flitting from tree to tree, All day long in the warm sunlight!

Dark clouds fast approaching, Dangerous winds violently gust, Dust, loose leaves, mud and debris, Finding secure shelter is a must. Lightning strikes in darkened skies, Rumbling thunder follows, BANG! Rain streaking to quench the ground, Icy hail bounces off all, ting tang! Rain steadies, thunder ceased, Flash flooding fast on the rise, Rivers raging, stock swept away, Causing destruction where it lies. Once all quiet, debris cleaned, Water covering where it's been, Rainbows, green flora, cool air, The storms results are easily seen.

Well, the new year is now here, Time to stop procrastinating my dear, Get on out and achieve your goals, Live your dreams, succeed in new roles, Make a realistic new years resolution, Perhaps study at a new institution. Whatever it may just happen to be, Do your best to do it correctly, For if you don't give it your all, Less will catch you if you fall, So pack away that christmas tree, 'n' get doing what makes you happy. However, don't forget to find, Time each day to relax, unwind, Otherwise you'll just burn on out, Be so overloaded you'll scream 'n' shout, Thus take time enjoying little things, You'll be amazed at the good it brings. Now off you go, ignite that mind, Rise up above the daily grind, Spend time with friends, get some sun, Before you know the year'll be done, Life is short so don't you quit, Find your groove and go for it! 

As the days get longer and warmer, Once a year from November to March, People enjoy their summer holidays, Celebrating and over consuming starch. As the sun makes it hot, at times extreme, We seek needed relief in a ice cold drink, Whilst we head out to the dam, river or beach, Some even enjoy an icy cool skating rink. Though summer is pictured as fun in the sun, Mother Nature has her own exciting ideas, Destructive Fires, monsoons and cyclones too, Reducing fine plans of BBQ's and beers. Working at night to beat scorching heat, Eager farmers sow their tough summer crops, Hoping they will prosper against all odds, Including but not limited to sunburned tops.

Heavenly Father up above, I believe you’ve taken someone I love, Someone whom to me was dear, But now they’ve gone to you I fear. Heavenly Father, lord our god, You’ve taken them and left their bod, Whilst sorrow sweeps the ones behind, Let us all to each other be extra kind. Heavenly Father please hear me, For your angel they are now to be, Watching all left here below, Guiding us in health and sorrow. Heavenly Father please help us, To become happier as time does pass, Even though we miss those we’ve lost, And been left behind to pay the cost. Heavenly Father thanks for listening, Even though for me it’s shattering, Please let them rest in blissful peace, And bless those greiving the deceased.

Time is such a funny thing, It goes by ever too fast, One moment you have all day, And then it’s all gone into the past. Time can get you into trouble, When there is just not enough, Thus it pays to plan ahead, So it doesn’t become too tough. Time can also seem to stand still, Taking seemingly so long, An illusion of a your mind, Bit like a slow classical song. So when for you time is slowly, Waltzing you through your day, Think of those for whom it’s flying, And enjoy your worries away.

Seasons come, just as they go, Some times with rain, or sun, or snow, Giving the land their customised glow, Or bringing grief when too much in a row, Just who are we all to really know, Exactly what next season has in stow? For it is not us who possess the power, To control the seasons, hour to hour, From its mighty ways we may even cower, Whilst it kills or flourishes every flower, Perhaps it will topple a mountainous tower, Then almost all hope it might devour. Dehydrated leaves could fall, From dead trees once alive and tall, As drought makes its deathly call, Weakening and killing the strong or small, Bringing dusty, dry devastation to all, That only the lucky survivors will recall. A season on and all around, There may now be snow covered ground, Frostbitten plants shall then be found, For it to is deadly, without a sound, Some may retreat, (warmer season bound,) Or be buried under a giant icy mound. Another brings a wild s

Deep in the amazing Australian bush, At the end of a long winding dirt track, Where gumtrees sway in the breeze, And the only way in is on horseback. There's a small old mud brick house, With a rusting old corrugated tin roof, It's plumbing is a basic sight to see, And Horses only find dirt under hoof. Wildlife come and go as they please, The garden consists of wildflowers, There's a rocking chair by the door, To relax in for plenty of long hours. The verandah's built for all to enjoy, Whether they be man, bird or beast, A tank to catch and store fresh water, And a barbecue to cook up a feast. Inside's an old cottage appearance, To delight a beholders inquisitive eye, For this is the comfortable bush home, Of the Bushman when he comes on by.

Helpful clock upon the wall, Showing time for all to see, Telling the time you're set to, No more being late for me. Helpful clock upon the wall, Be you crystal or hard wood, Wind up or solar powered, Tell the right time you should. Helpful clock upon the wall, Even when you are broken, You're still right twice a day, Till you're all fixed up again. Helpful clock upon the wall, You've colours and styles for all, You can brighten up any room, Be you small or big and tall.

One moment, one glance, emotions start to bubble, One touch, then a chance, Wild thoughts may lead to trouble, One kiss, you start to dance, Like flames amongst the stubble. Then comes, some romance, Perhaps a lift over a puddle, You're in, your own France, Where Pain's eased by a cuddle, It's for them, you take your stance, Though Your mind's now a muddle. Yet on you seem to prance, As you balance out your 'jumble', Keep on going, then perchance, It will become less o' a tumble, Your wisdom, shall advance, As Life continues much more humble.

Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, That jolly old time each year,  When everyone is so magically, Filled with great joy and cheer! Childrens thoughts filled with fun, Eyes wide with pure innocent joy, Even those that don't get much, Are made feel special with a toy. Trees filled full with decorations, And coloured lights all aglow, Even though not everywhere, Is glistening bright with snow. Stockings hung by wishful hearts, Once Christmas is so very near, Hopes of Santa visiting soon, Snacks of cookies, coco and beer! Merry Christmas! 

Every year on All Hallows' Eve it's said, People celebrate magic, and the dead, Carving pumpkins and trick or treating, Horror stories send imaginations fleeting, Costumes, parties, prayers for those past, Whilst pranksters have a horrific blast. Mischief and magic are all in the air, Making most stop and surprisedly stare, There be ghosts, witches, goblins too, Out to be fun, spooky and scare a few, Jack'o'lanterns are carved and well lit, Spooking all till the flames finally quit. There's children going door to door, Collecting lots of sweet treats galore, Some look sweet, others a bit scary, Just a basic sheet or warewolf hairy, All having plenty of Halloween fun, Till bed time when it's all over, done. Candles and lanterns are lit to recall, Loved ones that are passed, of us all, Some say this is a time they come visit, Be they a gentle spirit or rather explicit, It certainly would be one scary night, For

Here’s to you on your special day, May joy and prosperity come your way! Let all negativity flow far away, Whilst you enjoy your special day. Here’s to you, my dear friend, A great life from start to end, Full of ups and downs, and little bends, Taking you places with time to spend! Here’s to you! let it be a blast! From the first moment to the last, Don’t wear happiness as a mask, Drink every drop thats in the cask. Here’s to you! Let’s not delay, Raise your glass, Hip Hip Hooray!  Celebrations just for you today, Here’s to you on your special day!

‘Tis once again the festive season, Time for family, festivities 'n' cheer, Celebrations bringing a fun end, To yet another enormous year. A time for Seasons Greetings,  Merry Xmas, happy new year too, The shops are stocked with tinsel, And gift options for me and you. Decorations are being put up, At homes all round the town, Families are planning holidays, There are few sporting a frown. Relaxation and fun are intended, By most at this merry time of year, However some just work on thru, 'N' some don't like festive cheer. So bring forth all the tinsel, lights, Delectable Food, and festivities, Shopping, gift giving, fireworks, And some religious activities. Whether you celebrate Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Christmas or the years end, Embrace the festive season relaxing, For 'tis Seasons Greetings we send. 

'Twas a sunny summer morning, As The Bushman rocked in his chair, Talking to his mighty chestnut horse, When a spark started a flare. It slowly crept from leaf to leaf, Over a hill not too far away, Gradually gaining momentum, Burning whatever was in its way. Soon it was a roaring blaze, Engulfing flora high and low, Sending animals scattering fast, Whilst creating a far seen glow. When The Bushman first caught sight, Of the great fires billowing smoke, He quickly lept up from his seat, Making contact with the village folk. Meanwhile the great fire spread, Vastly over the thick bushland, Killing all that couldn't get away, On the very spot that they did stand. Roos bounded and lizards scurried, As fast as they possibly could, Cockatoos shrieking as they flew, Evacuating homes of twiggy wood. The great fire 'twas growing rapidly, As it started burning on up the hill, Towards The Bushman's homestead, Creep

Newborn bub ever so small, Mothers breast to snuggly crawl, Emotions flow from all nearby, As newborn suckles after a cry. Six months on testing a new tooth, Surprised mother left painfully aloof, Baby smiles cheekily ear to ear, At loving mother ever so dear. One year past bub asks for more, Mum now runs to the nearest door, Weaning can be horrid it’s true, Ever so hard to see it through. Tears and pain, sticky and sweet, Beastmilk, bubs favourite eat, Alas eventually must come to an end, As Supermum’s can’t keep it in the blend.