A holiday night

It’s 8:24pm

On a week day holiday night

I’m tucked up in my newly made bed

Sore feet resting up for tomorrow’s plight.

They’ve been sore for a good three weeks now

And they will for another few days delight

With their pain and their aching symptoms

Until the doctor gets a sight.


I used to have calm holidays

Time to take lots of care

But now I am studying

That time has slipped else where.




Why do I work all day

Family in the afternoon

Study for 3 hours each night?

Turn out the light exhausted

And promptly drift to sleep?

I wonder why each night

As I set up for my effort

Dragging my tired brain

Logging on to an online lecture

In person, lectures often

Sent me off to quiet dream time

Now I am voluntarily .

Logging on, with no one to see

Sound on mute

Eyes struggling to stay open

Camera on, just so that I cannot fall asleep.

Why do I put myself through this nightly?

A bucket list idea,

I simply want a Masters, not a PhD!

The truth,

I enjoy the study

Despite the weary eyes

Learning new information

New fasinating ideas

Broadening the mind

Challenging perspectives

Getting that grey matter

To seek out ways to improve

It’s sometimes much more fun

Than that fortnightly paycheck

So tomorrow, I’ll look forward

To the next topic on the list

And I guess I’ll keep on studying

A bit longer now at least.

She is burning


She is burning

Both on the ground and in the air.

100 plus bush fires devouring

Any grass tree or gum in their paths.

Up and down the coast line

From Brisbane down south,

To way north of Cairns,

Smoke haze fills the sky.

Almost 7000 km available to burn

In this most unusual heatwave

That’s sucking water from everywhere.

Normally at this time of year,

Yes Queensland’s all a swelter

We bitch and moan and hide out

In our refrigerated air.

The humidity is something fierce

Sweat pours out of all our skin

And drips in the most uncomfortable

Places – it can be embarrassing.

This time, it’s some what different

The weather’s in reverse

There is no clouds to mar the sky

No welcome fall of rain

The humidity is so very low

It is just pure and burning heat.

Bring back some gastly humidity

To bring the rain and it’s relief.



We have this thing in Aus,

This thing that we call Nippers

And every Sunday for 6 months

The beaches are crowded

Aged from ankle biting

To teenage sauve and sophisticated

These fluro pink vested kids

Jump up and run for Flags

They sprint the beach

They swim through waves

They perform mock tube rescues

Their leaders point them into surf

And back out again for fun.

These fearless kids

Learn all sorts

From swimming to first aid.

These groups of kids that pack the sand

They are our surf life saving “Nippers”.



For those not from Australia – “kids” is a colloquial word for children and “nippers” is another Aussie term for children (usually the smaller variety).


The wind


From the west

Dust and heat

It carries.

Flares tempers

At the end of year

Many changes

Fast approaching



Out the door

New comforts

Yet to find




Students erupt

Feeding off tension

Or just tired.

3 weeks left

So much to do

One step in front of the other

Reign in that temper

We are all the same

Tired, busy



Next year will bring

Comfort once more

New friendships will be defined

New traditions developed

New doorways to find


It will be fine.


End of a school year

It’s rocking on to end of year

We’re all getting a little tired

The aches and pains are catching up

The marking pile grows higher

The last competition of the year

Awards nights, arts, sports and academic

The year 12 students are almost out the door

The 10s and 11s to follow soon after

And when the doors shut on the last day

It’s not a day of exhaustion

Parties visits intersect with next years preparation


My Doc

I really like my doctor

Her acent is devine

She used to be not busy

Now to see her there is a line.


I have wonderful friends

They are bright and kind and cheerful

Spending time with them

Makes my dramas fade away

It is always fanastic

To catch up with distant folk

The ones that mean so much to me

That tolerate my remotes

I can get quite isolated

Not by force but by my choice

I find I need my me time

After dealing with so many folk

By the end of term I am drained

Empty of brains and emotions

The thought of conversations

Stimulating or other kinds

Just leaves me hollow and sunken

A shell with nothing inside.

I force myself to be social

To not cut off friends dear

But I can admit to dreading

Visits from these friends I fear.

One day it will be different

One day I’ll look forward to with love

And passion and excitement

but for now

Finding conversation of any kind is hard

To string the words together

Coherence I fail to find.


Thank you to my old friends

My friends from way back in high school

Were such an accepting bunch

I have never really told them

How much this meant to me

That I could take my time outs

To do what I needed to

To study, to sit, to write,

To be my introvert.


One day after a couple of months

Of self imposed solitude

I’d pick up the old hand phone

And call them up to join

Whatever their latest adventure.

They’d welcome me back with open arms

Never questioning me nor quizzing

On why I left them hanging two long months ago.

Oh Postgraduate

I’ve always wanted a Masters

Of what, I did not care.

I’ve dreamed and looked up courses

And plotted as I dared.

Now I’ve finally started.

Two assignments in.

The joy has started to wear – a little thin.

I still quite like the study

I love reading and research

And happily I’ll type notes

Write notes


My problem is another one

Work and life get in the road

When I want to study

I have to be at work or down the road

It’s harder than I thought

Finding the time for me

To let my brain delve deeply

Into reading difficulties.


A story for another time

Children should be loved

And cherished

Their life a happy playground

Their problems should be small or smaller

Food always on the table

Oh No!

I forgot to clean my room

I did not eat my veges

I climbed atop the trampoline

And fell into my parent’s arms

All was well, I broke a bone

But love was all around me.

That’s the childhood I always knew

Until I started teaching

And even after many years

You still come across a story

That makes you ache deep in your heart

And try to help another.

Too sad the story I have to tell

To raw to let the reader know it

Perhaps one day,

With some distance

I’ll tell this young child’s tale

But not today

And not tomorrow

For this child is still living in the story

And there is no fairy tale ending.



I know a child

Not yet a teenager

Of life she has seen plenty.

I wish that it was fun and fairies

Frollicking fancies out on prairies.


As I look into her eyes

Past aging makeup on her face

I see a child who’s seen too much

Who knows nothing except

Feeling unsafe