The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease for ever to be able to do it. J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

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Up there
almost forever,
journeying from Europe to Africa
At equal elevation you pass eagles,
they scan the earth,
you never look down

 

 

Luke Fische

http://www.australianpoetry.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/Signs-made-by-Birds-review.pdf

Leprechauns, castles, good luck and laughter.Lullabies, dreams and love ever after. Poems and songs with pipes and drums. A thousand welcomes when anyone comes… That’s the Irish for you!

http://www.litera.co.uk/irish_sayings_good_night_and_sleep/

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And her red lips he fondly kissed
    Beside the castle door,
And he rode away in the morning mist,
    And he never saw her more!

 

The Feud: A Border Ballad

by Adam Lindsay Gordon (1833 – 1870)

http://alldownunder.com/australian-authors/adam-lindsay-gordon/feud-a-border-ballad.htm

You cannot always wait for the perfect time, sometimes you must dare to jump.

 

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Allowing for the Doppler effect it is all possibly
closer than we feel. Matter and movement were one &
the same. Even the rocks were awash with electrons.
Shadows had no colour. Objects sprang from every corner.
I wasn’t a daredevil: I was a risk technician.

TOTEM (II)

LUKE DAVIES

http://www.poetryinternationalweb.net/pi/site/poem/item/8305

Aunt Lorna kisses into space near your ear, not on your face. I don’t call that kissing I call that missing.

 

 

 

Honey Sandwich by Elizabeth Honey.  Allen & Unwin, 1993.

http://ozpoemaday.wordpress.com/tag/elizabeth-honey/IMG_20140112_184040

 

foto – musicians at the URUNGA SURF LIFESAVING CLUB FUNDRAISER in January 2014.

 

Instead of putting your sandwich in a Ziploc bag, why don’t you use my t-shirt? It’s sweaty and will keep the bread moist.
”

― Jarod Kintz, If you bring the booze and food, I’ll bring the thirst and hunger

At high tide fish eat ants; at low tide ants eat fish. Thailand.

URUNGA LIDO JANUARY 2014

foto – URUNGA January 2014

Mud Crabs, Low Tide

I feel a sharpness under the surface like tin-tacks,
having come down to their soft mud among smells
where most would retch. They sift broken bits,
tuck into their mud; the bay has the sound

that could suck a crab-claw clean: a low-tide restaurant.
Like the guileless yachts, or tunes
of light sociable chopsticks: their lilting suck and clink—
but it stops when you move, when the wind changes,

Judith Beveridge

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mud-crabs-low-tide/

Hindukush Ojha

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/those-misty-years/

GUMBOOTS IN URUNGA 2014

Gumboots, they are wonderful, gumboots, they are swell
‘coz they keep out the water and they keep in the smell.
And when you’re sittin’ round at home, you can always tell
When one of the Trevs has taken off his gumboots.

Chorus:

If it weren’t for your gumboots, where would ya be?
You’d be in the hospital or infirmary
‘coz you would have a dose of the ‘flu, or even pleurisy
If ya didn’t have yer feet in yer gumboots.

Now there’s rugby boots and racing boots and boots for drinkin’ rum.
But the only boots I’m never without are the ones that start with “gum”.
I’ve got short ones and long ones and some up to me belt.
I’m never dressed ’till I’ve got on me gumboots.

Chorus

Whenever I sing at the opera, my gumboots are a must.
They help me hit the high notes, and protect me feet from dust.
They keep the water well away, so me voice won’t get no rust.
You will not never see me without me gumboots.

Chorus

Now Rob Muldoon and Rowling, they haven’t made a hit.
They’re ruining the country more than just a bit.
If they keep on the way they’re going, we’ll all be in turd.
So you’d better get yer feet up yer gumboots.

 

This song was originally performed by a New Zealand comedian (John Clarke) who played a character called Fred Dagg. It caught the imagination of many NZers and is now well known. John Clarke went to Australia after finding his prospects in NZ to be very limited – but Fred Dagg and especially this song are very fondly remembered.