My Dog

I looked at my dog and he looked at me
He was a great friend as all dogs should be
I knew he had a few things on his mind
Like when's the next meal
Or shall we go out now and rabbits find?

We had a large garden with much to do
Happy when I worked there he'd come out too
But when told to go outside to cock leg
Straight way rushed outside
As never did we even have to beg

Dogs are quite crafty have great sense of smell
When we checked, he disappeared, did not tell
Later this happened again and again
Not to return home
He would chat with dog down the street named Wayne

Sometimes they would both run down the river
Have swim and play then come back the skiver
Totally exhausted after their trip out
Slept in his basket
For an hour or two, the old roustabout

As our road led to open fields and stream
The neighborhood was every dogs dream
His trips with Wayne often with me in tow
Was fun for me too
My wife did say that my face was aglow!

Image found at www.pixabay.com

My own country

I saw the ugliness of apartheid
Long ago in the Nineteen fifties
In England, in the street, in the faces
Of white South Africans looking cross
Avoiding using the same pavement
Coloureds now walked on happily

And so I made a vow that in my life
I'd smile in friendship with coloured people
To speak with them if there was a chance
To show that they were welcome to me
We could walk on the pavement together
Hand in hand in harmony

I migrated from Britain to Australia
More than fifty years ago to find
That native Australian aboriginees
Were treated with the same disrespect
Despite welcome to all other migrants
To build a land strong and free

Eventually native Australians
Were counted too and given the vote
Rather than being considered part
Of the country's flora and fauna
I like to think that Nelson Mandela 
Also helped my own country

Image of both the Aboriginal and Australian flags flying together in Victoria Square, Adelaide, South Australia found at https://journals.worldnomads.com/flyted/photo/28660

Lady Liberty

Oh what false people we are
To wave a flag of freedom
Then deny it to those that come
Hand in hand with their children

Whether to the United States
Or far flung Australia
Lady Liberty hides her face
As migrants treated like scum

Children cry all by themselves
Bright eyes now filled with tears
They'll remember all their lives
Perhaps one day they'll vote too

Some internees now self harm
As courage and hope are lost
Bright futures now fade to gray
As local people greet the day

Image found at https://www.pinterest.com.au

A great big wheel

Independence is how you feel
Free to do exactly what you think
Or be shackled to another's wheel

How glad we are to cast our votes
Until we see who'll speak for us
Find that we've chosen sheep or goat

Independence is a sham you know
Regulations are piled so high
You're not free to choose which way to go

You're just a cog in a great big wheel
Turning whether you want or no
Just play along it's no big deal

What feedom you have don't let it show
And take care when you laugh or smile
They'll tax that too before you know

Image found at www.cityweekly.net/

Must get away

Urban traffic
Cars and noise
Peoples voices
Scent of decay
Shouts and smells 
Must get away

Tire tracks have ended
A lines was crossed
Now I am me
The wild place begun
All birds sang out
My world was now free

Flimsy clouds high above
Birds stilted voices
They now sang out loud
For their message is clear
Sun shines down on us
So far from the mad crowd

How wonderful is nature
We trip and dance with glee
To breathe in that message
Three great gasps of this freedom
To bask in this heaven
And glory in its visage

Image 1 found at www.america.aljazeera.com
Image 2 found at www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com.au

Being Sensible

You and your sister planned for the future
Get together after me and her husband 
Had kicked the bucket
Moved on so to speak

So it would be like your old teenage years
With no permanent men to worry about
Except one night flings
Just now and then say

It was a joke that you told the both of us
And I for one was pleased that you did so
That you'd thought it out
Being sensible

Little cottage by the sea was your plan
Except that you both died a year apart
Left us widowers
And grieving alone

https://www.homeaway.com

Laughing together

Have I got the ability
To leave the demons behind?
And set off full tank, top gear
On the highway down the lanes
Sell my past to start again
Get back to the elements
Where trees whisper their secrets
Birds sing their songs on the hour
Just lie on the ground laughing
Hugging, kissing each other
With just you as my buddy
Well that is my theory
I just can't be without you

Image found at www.123rf.com

I have to be me

Silent she looked down
Checking her red fingernails
At his proposal

He was not handsome
Nor did he have a good job
He was just eager

Her nails were no help
He smiled hopefully at her
Waiting for acceptance

Was this her escape
From her cruel family home
For better or worse

At her suggestion
She should meet his mum and dad
He shook his head hard

This was no marriage
That was made in the heavens 
Just jailbirds fleeing

She made up her mind
Said let me think about it
Then left home next day

Better to be free
She mused on the long coach trip
I have to be me

Breaking my heart

When I look back now
to my childhood years
when I had parents
poor as church mice
war was raging
the world was ablaze
army trucks in the streets
planes flew overhead
and bombs rained down
I could walk in the fields
wade in the cold stream
climb the old oak tree
observing the squirrels
play with my schoolmates
tease the girl up the road
get stung by the nettles
race our dog back home
then read the comics
feeling so free
all seemed good to me

I couldn't see ahead
to changing schools
girls laughing at me
of breaking my heart
stressing over exams
trying to find a job
of losing a girlfriend
paying my taxes
getting a mortgage
a second hand car
being responsible
serving my country
married with babies
sickness and funerals
kids now adults
getting those grey hairs
a bit of a paunch
being left alone
deaf and aching
hearing the clock tick
who wants to be free?

Image found at www.handmadelibrarian.com

Singing in the car

Clothes strewn on the floor
Church bells calling some to prayer
Latin lover laughs

Her eyes look around
Tiny opening in drapes
As man still sleeps on

She now leaves the bed
Touching the ornaments
Toes deep in soft rug

Looks all round the house
Smiling, feeling everything
Eyes drinking it up

Enters the kitchen
Opening the cupboards
In her element

She checks his pantry
Dips her finger in honey
Nibbles a biscuit

Could she live this life?
Remembering her old home
Those tears on her cheek

All the rows back then
So tired of the endless fights
She must keep moving

Level headed now
She showered quickly, got dressed
Then took her money

When he woke up
She was fifty miles away
Singing in the car

Image found at www.classhot.com

Have you not heard?

Malala  

Have you not heard?

Speaking with passion

She speaks for you

As well as her own

I was inspired

For in our world

She is but a child

An item of news

But in hers, hope

In the Swat valley

Their children’s choice

is “Cook, clean, serve”

What she wants is

“One child, one teacher”

“One book, one pen”

“Education first”

She said her father

“Did not clip my wings”

One day on a bus

A shot to her head

“I was stronger

than I was before

for fear and hope

and weakness died”

Are you not moved?

She said “Do not wait

for someone else”

“You must risk your life”

“Speak for yourselves”

and “Do not wait”

For she is Malala

Have you not heard?

N.B. Malala's own words in italics

Image found at www.abcnews.go.com

Shame

                                                 Rock Art, Kakadu National Park

In nineteen sixty seven

As a new Australian

An immigrant no less

Registered to vote

I was now entitled

To say whether

The Aboriginal people

Of this great land

Been here for about
Forty thousand years
Should be given the vote!
Was I proud?

Whiteys came scarcely
Two hundred years ago
“Terra Nullis” they said

Empty that is except for

A culture older than theirs

Art telling their history

Stories of their beliefs

A strict rule of law

Education for the young

Dancing to inspire

Songs to weep over

I was shamed

                         

                                       Mother Tree by Mrs Wallace                             

What love was

She wasn’t normally squeamish but she wrinkled up her nose with disgust. Since fleeing their home a few hours ago her husband had taken them not with the other straggling band of inhabitants from their village on the main road south but across country to the east. He had chosen to escape from the mercenaries this way as they would not be so obvious. A ramshackle crowd of people moving slowly in front of an advancing army was in his mind foolish to the extreme.

He had taken them to the sewage pits on the far side of town. All was still and quiet there as they sat down to rest and looked across the pools of water where hundreds of birds had gathered looking for food. As they sheltered in the bushes the nervous creatures got back to their fossicking. Egrets, a few swans, and ducks by the dozen. Around them as she pulled open her clothes to offer her breast to their little girl, other smaller birds, confident that they meant no harm came out too while swallows swooped low over the water flicking their heads as the picked up insects in flight.

She became accustomed to the smell and felt less squeamish now that he had chosen this route to escape. She watched him as he held their boy and pointed the birds all around them. He had told her they would cross the hills to seek their freedom. She looked sadly at him talking with the little boy. Freedom was a foreign word it meant nothing as they had never experienced it. Being of a religious minority meant they were welcome nowhere. They all worshiped the same god but it was the way you did that stood you apart. Governments were invisible to them they were merely represented by the military who were godless anyway. So they had to flee or face eradication.

He husband turned and pointed to the hills. They were on the move again. Both she and her husband picked fresh leaves and berries from the bushes and ate them as they walked along. There should be water there he had said for it rained more on high land. So slowly they approached the high country. He kept saying “Eat, eat!” to her.

“Why” she asked.

“Because you may have to feed the boy too”. 

She lowered her eyes and understood. Their son was only three, already weaned but they had to stay alive somehow and he was desperate that they all got to safety. She had never really thought whether he loved her or not, as their marriage had been arranged but now seeing that certain look in his eyes. She finally knew what love was.

Image from www.rungloriarun.blogspot.com

Freedom is a curse

Never ever free me from these memories.

Do you remember your first love?

I fell in love for the first time many times!

There was the girl that held my hand when we were singing in class, I had short trousers then.

Then there was Fay in the springtime, who accepted a trinket of my love but was gone by summer.

I always walked Jeannie to the bus after school and loved her freckled nose and the secret kiss by the swings.

Now my real first love was Irene who laughed at my impudence but scorned my affection and left me heartbroken.

Kathleen was the one that took me home and showed me to her parents and gave me tea and cakes and sat me in the front room and walked in the woods with me and then gave me up for one she really loved and broke my heart...again.

Dare I tell you about Enid the beautiful muse who was a friend but I couldn’t see she was the one that loved me until we parted when I fell into an abyss of despair and like Orpheus I searched everywhere for her and would even have followed her through the gates of hell if I had known where that was!

But fickle I was as man and youth and my heart had an enormous capacity to love. All these loves and more came into my life and each one was set free by me or by their own wisdom.

Even you my love who loved me constantly from youth to manhood through adventure and pain, through sadness and joy, through babies and children and grandchildren you left me too.

You left me, never to be free of all these loving memories and I would wish it no other way.