A CHRISTMAS GIFT

A Christmas Gift

Just a little scrap of paper that blew upon the wind 

But it held the dates of Granpa's life

And simply can't be binned.

And there, upon the southern wall, my Granma's looking down

Maybe she's read the notes behind

And that's why she wears a frown!

There are many dusty photographs, a lot that are unnamed

Some have faded quite a bit, 

And some are nicely framed.

There are boxes there of letters, all dated and nicely tied

With ribbon that looks inviting

And with lots of facts inside.

Oh, and on the shelf just to the side, the family bible rests

It has names of many generations

And even some bequests.

Notebooks belonging to my Pa, in which he's written every day

Chronicle his many moves 

And what his family had to say.

Of course, this is all a fantasy, a dream, a fervent wish

It's what I'd like for Christmas

I wish, I truly wish!!!

Crissouli (c) 2007

AUSTRALIAN POEM

When the shearing sheds are silent and the stock camps fallen quiet

When the gidgee coals no longer glow across the outback night

And the bush is forced to hang a sign, '. gone broke and won't be back'

And spirits fear to find a way beyond the beaten track


When harvesters stand derelict upon the wind swept plains

And brave hearts pin their hopes no more on chance of loving rains

When a hundred outback settlements are ghost towns overnight

When we've lost the drive and heart we had to once more see us right


When 'Pioneer' means a stereo and 'Digger' some backhoe

And the 'Outback' is behind the house. there's nowhere else to go

And 'Anzac' is a biscuit brand and probably foreign owned

And education really means brainwashed and neatly cloned


When you have to bake a loaf of bread to make a decent crust

And our heritage once enshrined in gold is crumbling to dust

And old folk pay their camping fees on land for which they fought

And fishing is a great escape; this is until you're caught


When you see our kids with yankee caps and resentment in their eyes

And the soaring crime and hopeless hearts is no longer a surprise

When the name of RM Williams is a yuppie clothing brand

Not a product of our heritage that grew off the land


When offering a hand makes people think you'll amputate

And two dogs meeting in the street is what you call a 'Mate'

When 'Political Correctness' has replaced all common sense

When you're forced to see it their way, there's no sitting on the fence


Yes one day you might find yourself an outcast in this land

Perhaps your heart will tell you then, 'I should have made a stand'

Just go and ask the farmers that should remove all doubt

Then join the swelling ranks who say -  "Don't sell Australia out"
 

Author unknown