A Voice That's Unmistakeable

 A voice that's unmistakeable at twilight of October day
That i first heard as a young boy in old grove  far away
Proclaiming his nesting borders in the Springtime of the year
His  is a familiar voice of Nature always pleasant for to hear
The song of  the male golden billed blackbird such a beautiful thing
For to hear on a calm and  pleasant evening near to the prime of Spring
Some birds he is one of them you know them by their song
Once heard quite unmistakeable you never get him wrong
My wonderment of Nature does never cease to grow
Yet so little of her ways that i can claim to know
But in life we never do stop learning as some are known to say
And in Nature a  lesson or two for us every day
And a bird that is familiar to many and familiar to me
The golden billed male blackbird one i know to hear and see.

Hamilton's Prettiest

Her eyes are light blue and her wavy shoulder length hair is light brown
The  prettiest young woman in Hamilton Town
Twenty three years of age  close to her life's prime
For marriage and children she has plenty of time
Herself  and her ex fiance three months ago parted company
She  feels happy in her life single and carefree
Many of her young friends living elsewhere but in Hamilton she is happy to stay
Where she hopes to live till her last night and day
A beautiful young woman free of conceit
So charming in her ways and pleasant to meet
For some lucky man she will make a lovely wife
Though marriage at present not her priority in life
She has no desire to travel in the big World out there
Though some of her young friends now living elsewhere.

It Does Seem This Way

Life is not meant to be easy for some it does seem
And lack of money does give rise to low self esteem
Only a  saint would embrace poverty
And saints are a rare breed would you not agree
So many homeless people sleeping rough at night
For them life has always been an uphill fight
It seems an impossible journey to wealth and renown
For those out of work on the poor side of town
With a home  to live in i cannot complain
I have never been homeless or known of hunger pain
Millions destined  to live  as paupers due to birth circumstance
To succeed in life they never had a chance
The numbers of Homeless and Stateless increase by the day
For some life is not easy it does seem this  way.

The Blooming Of Love

The blooming of love is a beautiful thing
And of the praises of love many do love to sing
But the love often the quickest to bloom often the fastest to die
Wise words from an old sage and surely not a  lie
It is true about love it is  a beautiful thing
And of the praises of love many do love to sing
But the ending of love often gives rise to tears
And a bitter sorrow that does linger for  years
There are many forms of love  as we know all too well
And everyone of love have their own stories to tell
For as long as in her body there is living breath
The mother she loves her children till her death
And though love it has inspired song, story and  rhyme
Some forms of love do not last for a  long time.

In Buninyong

In Buninyong i would be a stranger today
Since from there in time i've been too long away
A stranger today in the old Crown Hotel
Where years ago i was one who was known well
In a place that did often inspire me to rhyme
I've not been there for some twenty four years in time
The people there to strangers welcoming and kind
And better than them would be so hard to find
By some of the locals i was made to feel as one of their own
Where today i would be a stranger just one more unknown
For the years bring with them changes and the past it has gone
And we  live in the now and in life we move on
But fond memories of Buninyong i have to retain
And in fancy i visit the old Crown again.

Jill Meagher

Everything happens for a reason at least that is what we are told
But that of little use to her since she did not live to grow old
Her life it was taken from her in the cruelest and foulest way
That lady luck was not on her side does this seem a  fair thing to say

Jill Meagher on her way home from a function a night out in her local bar
The distance to walk in metres for one in her late twenties not far
She met with a badly flawed person unworthy of mention by name
Who in prison will live for decades with the taint of his act of shame

Yes his name not worthy of mention the one  who took her young life
He robbed her family of a precious member and robbed her husband of his  beloved wife
Her friends left to mourn her passing how sad very sad life can be
I recall the  words of a wise one how we die part of our life's destiny

This may be so but poor Jill Meagher did not deserve such a  terrible end
Humanity does have  it's dark side why otherwise try to pretend
She now is beyond life's worries her husband and family left for her to grieve
That everything happens for a reason i do find quite hard to believe.

Fifteen Kilometres From Warrnambool

Fifteen kilometres or more from Warrnambool's big coastal Town
The  paddocks by the Hopkins in Summer are brown
An old land that has inspired story and rhyme
That was very old even in the  Dreamtime

Australia's first people long before the first Europeans came
For this ancient Country had a different name
Where on warm Summer evenings they had their corroborees
And out of the full sun danced in the shade of the trees

Fifteen kilometres or more from the Town of Warrnambool
The dark moorhens cry in the brown river pool
Where the Hopkins does flow and will forever more
On it's journey that ends at the Pacific shore

Where natural beauty on all Seasons is to be seen
In Winter and Spring the old paddocks look green
But in the dry spells of Summer and Autumn they look bare and brown
Fifteen kilometres or more from Warrnambool's big coastal Town.