Beach imagery

Beautiful water

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

Gentle laps

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

All together



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.

One acronym too many







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.


Tired Eyes

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.

Lost, Cloaked and Clouded

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.

After the beach

The sand

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.

Avoiding Editing

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.

Unseen side of Education

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

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.