Grey green, streaks of sand
Curl up to make cylindrical waves
Oh the song of pounding waves
The song of rushing water
Booooooom echos along the long shore break
Momentarily drowning other sounds
A pause, a moment, a not quite silence
Then the boooooom echos again.
Salt coats almost every surface
Fine cyrstals impeed the perfect view
Sunglasses smeared with salty spray
Windblown sand sticks to you
And yet the sand does not prevent
The pure enjoyment of watching waves
The colour varies, hard to capture
The sound is soothing every day
Or thumping dumpers
We all enjoy the ocean’s shore
Crystal clear water sea green, sea blue
Sping time water waits for you
The water at the end of summer
Has a more greying hue.
I could get all scientific
But beauty is sometimes just beautiful
The beach, the ocean, nature’s perfection
I enjoy you, I truly do.
We have a history in Australia
Of our fighting men,
Stories are told, again and again
Of these soldiers and their woes
Of Simpson and his donkey
Every Aussie kid knows
And at a push we can tell you
That Kiwis, from across the ditch
Are also included in ANZACs
But there is something that we miss
Our indigenious Australians
Also did us proud
They fought for our flegdling country
And that’s something that we forgot
It’s our history
It’s not a mystery
They battled at Gallipoli
And battled at the Somme
One young man awarded medals
Signed by George the V
Yet when he returned home
He was unsung.
This is our shame
We should remember
We are a nation
Lest we forget
Do not forget about the others
The ones we never hear of
Our Aboriginal Australians also fought for our lifestyle
Lest we forget.
It is with very tired brain
I write these lonesome words
I feel the pull of introvert
From the world again.
I crave the space for loneliness
A place to hide and be
To forget about world problems
To forget about the problems of thee
I want to go and hide
And wish the world away
But life keeps on ploding onwards
On this lonely feeling day.
Acronyms for school
Is it any wonder our youth struggle to read
To write, construct a sentence
When everything is abbreviated
In schools, the above list goes on
Teachers even get codes on their names
Is there nothing that we won’t shorten.
I 8 PI
To those in the know
This language is quite familiar
But to those who struggle, to decode life
We just zapped you out of understanding
One acronym too many.
I wonder why eyes get tired
Tired of looking out
Tired of seeing
Tired of observing
Tired of life no doubt
Tired eyes reflect back at me
Although it is only early
Too early to bed
Too early to rise
Why give out on me so soon?
Did I over work you at the beach
Studying stand up paddle boarders?
Or was it the trawler leaving port
That caused you a case of exhaustion?
I know that my eyes demand a rest
And computer time just don’t cut it
So off to bed, my eyes to rest
I guess now I have an excuse
Let the stories run loose, no need for vision
Characters can frollick in waves of grass
Wars can wager, heros not victims
Evil dies and freedom rules
No vision needed, tired eyes can rest
A good excuse to daydream
And work on plots and story lines
‘Til I drift off to dreamland.
I drive a quite mudane road to work
Straight, long and full of traffic
Yet some mornings I just don’t want to stop
For mundaness is hidden from view
The backyards of hundreds of houses
Hidden behind tall concrete fences
Are lost, cloaked and clouded
Behind a mist that isolates you.
Cars and trucks of once were plenty
Now only in sight a handful
Peer out from the whiteness
Peer out and appear distant
Lost, cloaked and clouded.
My drive to work
Mundane tomorrow but not today.
Once plastered to wet skin
Should begin to fall
A good brushing off, you’re almost done
Oh wait, you missed a spot.
And don’t forget the salt lined lips
Eyebrows glued together
As sun has dried the water off
But NaCl doth linger
The wet shirt’s dry but not the top
And the sarong flaps lazily in the breeze
The sound of surf still calms the mind
And you hope that heat you feel is windburn.
You pile into a tired car
Sand somehow finds the footwell
Your last beach trip for the season done
At home hot showers for everyone
And a belated lunch finds empty tums
Til next season, Sea, I say adieu.
Editing going slow right now
I really don’t have the puff
I lack the zap and zim and vigor
I simply don’t give a stuff.
I’m back at work today
And at the moment, quite happy to go.
For it gets me out of editing
And exercising and all sorts of challenging ideas.
I’ve mowed the law,
I’ve weeded gardens,
I’ve prepped and planned,
I’ve had a great big clean out.
I’ve worked very hard to avoid
The painful edit.
So today it’s back to work
Where I no longer need to find
Big involved tasks to help me procrastinate
And not to edit.
There is an unseen side to Education
Hidden up the back of schools
Teachers work way past hard
In this location
Needy, needy children there.
It is not the fault of those children
Not the fault of anyone
Our special ed students are hard work
At times it is quite frustrating
But for all those times the joy that comes
When a child has a victory
When a child masters a skill
When a sweet young man,
Barely in his teens
Comes up to shake your hand.
He is demonstrating his respect
For something you have done for him.
A soft grin that spreads to his eyes.
These are the times that make it worth it.
Holidays are close to ending
School planning time I should now be spending
Get it done
Get it planned
Get it sorted
Get that blasted worksheet created
The problem with all these things to do
I’d much rather just go sit on the loo
There I could read or just contemplate
But alas the term needs to start with a clean slate.
So planning, creating, sorting I will get on with
And stop trying to rythme a word to with.