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Found 6 results

  1. Hello all, I had no idea this was here, great to see such an active forum. I've lived in Australia for 6 years. I wrote a little Christmas Poem - a reworking of A Night Before Christmas - specifically for Poms in Australia. Hope you like it http://bigalslittletales.blogspot.com.au/2012/12/twas-night-before-christmas-according.html All the best and Merry Christmas to you all, :xmas12:
  2. Bellbirds By channels of coolness the echoes are calling, And down the dim gorges I hear the creek falling: It lives in the mountain where moss and the sedges Touch with their beauty the banks and the ledges. Through breaks of the cedar and sycamore bowers Struggles the light that is love to the flowers; And, softer than slumber, and sweeter than singing, The notes of the bell-birds are running and ringing. The silver-voiced bell birds, the darlings of daytime! They sing in September their songs of the May-time; When shadows wax strong, and the thunder bolts hurtle, They hide with their fear in the leaves of the myrtle; When rain and the sunbeams shine mingled together, They start up like fairies that follow fair weather; And straightway the hues of their feathers unfolden Are the green and the purple, the blue and the golden. October, the maiden of bright yellow tresses, Loiters for love in these cool wildernesses; Loiters, knee-deep, in the grasses, to listen, Where dripping rocks gleam and the leafy pools glisten: Then is the time when the water-moons splendid Break with their gold, and are scattered or blended Over the creeks, till the woodlands have warning Of songs of the bell-bird and wings of the Morning. Welcome as waters unkissed by the summers Are the voices of bell-birds to the thirsty far-comers. When fiery December sets foot in the forest, And the need of the wayfarer presses the sorest, Pent in the ridges for ever and ever The bell-birds direct him to spring and to river, With ring and with ripple, like runnels who torrents Are toned by the pebbles and the leaves in the currents. Often I sit, looking back to a childhood, Mixt with the sights and the sounds of the wildwood, Longing for power and the sweetness to fashion, Lyrics with beats like the heart-beats of Passion; - Songs interwoven of lights and of laughters Borrowed from bell-birds in far forest-rafters; So I might keep in the city and alleys The beauty and strength of the deep mountain valleys: Charming to slumber the pain of my losses With glimpses of creeks and a vision of mosses.
  3. Guest

    A Poem To DIAC

    A poem dedicated to DIAC. My sympathies to all who are going through the migration process at the moment. It just seems to me that the goalposts keep changing. By the way, if anyone asks I have nothing to do with this thread as the Aussies may never let me in again.:biglaugh:
  4. Guest

    A Heroes poem

    I realise that the mere fact I am posting this thread you could accuse me of being over sentimental and to some degree overly romantic. But I feel it is worthy of inclusion, I hope some of you will agree. I also realise that PIO is meant to be a forum where Australia is meant to be the focus of our views, but at times more general everyday topics I think, should be included. This is one such time, or at least I hope so. I don't know how many of you are aware but in the very near future there are going to be several deaths involving members of our armed forces. This is due to the fact that there is going to be a major offensive by Nato led forces into certain areas that are controlled by rebel insurgents in Afghanistan. Whether you agree with the war or not should not be a major consideration. You may have a polar opposite view to my very own. You may disagree with the war, you may support our armed forces to the extreme. But what must be remembered is simply this. That these brave men and women are risking their lives for the good of us all. They are putting their lives in danger so that we, as members of this society can continue to live our lives. At times it must be admitted that these lives are at times, happy, at times, sad, and at times, just lived on a relatively level plain. But they are lives that are led purely because of the actions of the few, both now, and in the past. The 'true heroes' of our time are the men and women of the armed forces. NOT, some premiership footballer who does not know how to behave. Not some big breasted model, who is looked at as some kind of icon by some. What I am trying to say is this. That if I read or see one more time on the FRONT page of a newspaper, or HEADLINING the news that John Terry, and who he has s.....d, or hasn't s.....d is 'news', or that Jordan's wedding was 'Marvelous, or yet another scum of an MP has had his snout in the trough, or who the hell is going to win 'Dancing On Ice', I think I will go stark raving mad. Mark my words. The next time there is a death of a soldier in many parts of the world it will be relegated to third or forth in the news that night, or tucked away on page ten of your daily newspaper. The real issues, John Terry, Jordan, etc, will make the headlines day after day after day. I am not saying that these subjects are not important, and I also realise newspapers have to sell huge amounts to return a revenue, but surely what is happening in other parts of the world should take precedence. I am very sorry if I have offended, upset, or maddened anyone, but I do think that at 'times' we all need to be reminded what is truly important in life. I would like to take credit for the poem below, but it is by 'anonymous'. I have tried to find out who wrote it, but to no avail so far. In the meantime I would like to thank you all for taking the time to read this thread, and as I have said I hope I haven't offended. Thank you. Your daddy died a hero they tell him, your daddy died so brave But all that little boy understands is his daddy's name on a grave Your husband died a hero they tell her, he died so we could live free But all I really want, she says, is my husband here with me Your son died a hero they tell them, he died so this war could be won But the parents don't really care about war, all they want back is their son Your friend died a hero, they tell them, he died so this violence will finally end But war isn't the answer they say, and now we've lost another friend You died a hero, they tell him, you died so others could live without strife But he doesnt care about others, all he wants back is his life
  5. Guest

    a little poem for LC

    For LC There once was a lazy cow and a woman made of tin Believe it or not they used to be quite thin Alas now they look like the back of a bus And their knickers now come in twenty plus It was years since they last looked at their toes And there’s hairs hanging down from their nose Yet we care not what age has left in its wake Just pass us the hot chocolate and another piece of cake… Mrs TinB PS. If you want to reply to this I challenge you to make it rhyme!
  6. Guest

    christmas poem 18+

    he laid her on the table so white so clean so bare his forehead wet with beads of sweat he rubbed her here and there he touched her neck and felt her breast then drooling felt her thigh the slit was wet and all was set so he gave a joyous cry the hole was wide as he looked inside all was dark and murky he rubbed his hands and stretched his arms then stuffed the xmas turkey........... merry xmas
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