We Made It

it is the last day
cross eyes and zebra line'd frowns
mark the tired poet's brow

a thank you to all
for joining the haiku fun
see you all next year

Sunday Scribblings

My Great Aunt's Chair

in our family
there has always
been a resistance
to the bland

colourful
muti textural
chaotic
volatile are words
that come to hand

even great  aunt's chair
is a testament
to the wild

no pastels
for this grande dame
she thinks them
too mild

conservative
charming and sweet
is she
if you told her
she was 'cool'

she'd laugh
think you
out of your tree

For The Weekend

Stairway To Heaven... A Trip

dverse

Separated six long months
I wonder sometimes
When I will see you again
On the Stairway To Heaven

Sijo For ANZAC DAY

dverse


On television last night I saw a surviving Australian soldier from the El Alamein Campaign WW2 (Rats Of Tobruk) being interviewed. This is his story. I did not catch his name








.



at last we made it to cairo,she looked at me and i was hers
no charge for you darling,you will remember me and i you
i am 92 now, i still shed a tear when i think of her

she was a summer's day,in the nightmare storm of the war
she must be long gone,i owe her my my life if the truth be told
that short time with her gave me the strength to survive,it was love

Mary Wade

3WW...Poetry Jam

poor little street sweeper
craved a tippet and a few pence
stole them - got caught
was sentenced to death by hanging
she was 11

waiting in the putrid cell on death row
shuddering at the approach of footsteps
always thinking of the noose and the hangman
she unexpectedly received a reprieve from King George
who was having a rare lucid moment at the time

sentenced to life and transport to Australia
she made a go of it and carried on
in spite of  trials and tribulations

had 21 children
has 300 direct descendants
a former Prime Minister being one
lived till a ripe old age (87)
was even buried in a Church

a little London street sweeper
dressed in filthy rags
who should have been swinging
from a noose at 11
became the mother of the early colony

Enjoy Dodo!

Antipodean History Morsels

Frederick Wordsworth Ward
a bushranger with a poetic association

Captain Thunderbolt a gentleman thief
 held up a German Band on the highway

How can you rob from the ordinary bloke?
cried the Band leader

No worries  Fritz, just leave your names and addresses
I'll post you the money when I hit a big win

Aussie crims just don't have the heart
they used to have

For The Weekend

Sad Cafe

the change of season
brings blue

summer and its promise
gone

that small box of love
a dried flower now

wrapped in tissue
put away

and life goes on

The Germans march into Paris WW2. Citizens are forced to welcome them.

three word wednesday


his face
is ours
a mirror of emotion
trust is destroyed
an invasion rocks the soul
a tsunami of suffering
must be endured
and
we are changed

forever
forever
forever

For The Weekend

As Cosmo is my only fair dinkum commenter , I guess this is for him!

Rall's Laid Back Shack

things have gotten out of control
at Rall's laid back shack

her live in gardener
is  suffering
from an acute case of
laid backness

he could stay here watch the ants
crawl in single file in the sunshine for months
contemplate the size of the olives
the grove, now the parrots' delicatessen

think about how he should mend fences
and slash jack in the beanstalk
summer grasses  lying under the red umbrella

the song of survival calls
ringing in his ears and
never far away in an economy
where you must now choose
between booze or electricity

the country folk have voted
it's candles and booze

sadly, we must wend our way back
to the busy life of bustling ants
the different species variety

17 Hippies play Frau Music

poetry jam and 3WW


Good grief!
Hippies have changed!
Where are the beaded bandana'd
dread lock'd boys basking in the sun
patches on their jean pockets
earrings and bong pipes

Groovin' German style!
A more sanitised disciplined version
oom pah pah and violins
versus laid back twangs and blues
Lets raise our glasses to them
Cheers!

China

3WW

he squints when he can't find his specs
all three pairs of them
our arguments peel paint off the walls
he cooks lasagna and sings in french
he does not lick his finger when he turns a page
(otherwise i would leave him)
he makes fresh orange juice every morning
buys flowers on Friday (not gerberas)
he knows to leave me be in my sad time
he is my rock i am his ocean