Category Archives: SHELTER

We may not hope to see such men in these degenerate years. As those explorers of the bush — the brave old pioneers. Banjo Paterson

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We are the Old-world people,

Ours were the hearts to dare;

But our youth is spent, and our backs are bent,

And the snow is in our hair.


Back in the early fifties,

Dim through the mists of years,

By the bush-grown strand of a wild, strange land,

We entered – the pioneers.


Our axes rang in the woodlands,

Where the gaudy bush-birds flew,

And we turned the loam of our newfound home,

Where the Eucalyptus grew.


Housed in the rough log shanty,

Camped in the leaking tent,

From sea to view of the mountains blue

Where the eager diggers went.


We wrought with a will unceasing,

We moulded, and fashioned, and planned

And we fought with the black and we blazed the track

That ye might inherit the land.


There are your shops and churches,

Your cities of stucco and smoke;

And the swift trains fly where the wild cat’s cry

O’er the sad bush silence broke.


Take now the fruit of our labour,

Nourish and guard it with care;

For our youth is spent, and our backs are bent

And the snow is in our hair.


 Frank Hudson

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Murray Pioneer and Australian River Record (Renmark, SA - 1913 - 1942), Friday 18 April 1924,

Murray Pioneer and Australian River Record (Renmark, SA : 1913 – 1942), Friday 18 April 1924,


“mother’s parasol I unfold the dust of other summers” – Ernest J. Berry.


By Lucy (Year 4, Unload Creative Writing, 2014)

My parasol smells like strawberries
and it smells like cereal too.
It doesn't only give room to me,
it can also give room for two!
It sounds like meadows and gentle waves
to make way for the pretty caves.
It looks like a rainbow, my dear, dear friend,
its colours will stretch ‘til the very end.
It feels like a pillow made of silk from the clouds;
it makes me feel quiet, not loud.
It tastes like things sweet and sour,
its beauty lies beneath its power.

The eagle does not hunt flies.

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Mary Ritter Beard :

Woman’s success in lifting men out of their way of life nearly resembling that of the beasts—who merely hunted and fished for food, who found shelter where they could in jungles, in trees, and caves—was a civilizing triumph.

[Mary Ritter Beard (1876-1958), U.S. historian. Woman as Force in History, ch. 12 (1946).]

Two lovers in the rain have no need of an umbrella. Japanese



how many umbrellas or love letters

by Richard James Allen


how many umbrellas have I lost in my lifetime – left in the pristine

foyers of yoga centres, in the muddy corners of coffee shops, in the

mysterious worlds that exist under the seats in bus shelters, dangling

like bats off park benches?


                                                     I imagine each of these umbrellas, all dead and forgotten now of course, as giant origami love letters, which people I don’t know opened to the plunging sky with delight and relief.


looking back, these random forgetfulnesses may have been the major contribution of my life, popping up in the lives of others like the tips of islands emerging in a world where the sea levels are actually dropping to save beautiful but bedraggled shipwrecked wayfarers in a lost play by a man still named Bill.


And then


the rainless dawn.

Commended in the 2013 Dangerously Poetic Byron Bay Writers Festival Poetry Prize.

If one loves, one loves the whole person as he or she is, and not as one might wish them to be. ~ Lev Tolstoi, Russia



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“Keep your head up, forge forward fee-sabeel-illah, keep praying, learning, thinking, following your dreams, and loving the people in your life. It’s all worth it, it all matters and makes a difference. Every single thing you do is meaningful, even when you don’t see it. You are my brothers, my sisters, my heroes.” –

Wael Abdelgawad

Queensland Times (Ipswich) (Qld. : 1909 – 1954), Monday 5 August 1946,

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My sister’s staying. Things are not
where I’m used to finding them. This time
I tell myself it doesn’t matter. This time
I’m the one who has been cut. The poem
I wrote for her has come back to bite me.
So she is here to help. She’s already done
the garden, finishing off the jobs her sister started.
The peace lily my mother gave me when my father died
has been re-potted and is doing well beneath the camellia.
Today we walked to Market Town for a little bit of retail
therapy: DVDs and shoes. We also saw a movie called
Brokeback Mountain, which, according to the publicists,
is about gay cowboys. In fact it’s more about
how love isn’t always able to be
what you want.
We also watch her favourite TV shows, most of which
seem to be about the supernatural. And every now and then
she says something that lets me know how she coped
with her cancer. Keeping company, we are aware
of how living and dying reach out to each other, learning to be
at ease in my new leather lounge. It’s good: we’re still here
for the moment and that will have to be enough.
© 2005, Noel Rowe
From: Touching the Hem
Publisher: Vagabond Press, Sydney, 2005


seed shade sheep shade cow shade horse shade wallaby shade people shade ground shade sun shade

Jenny Boult

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Freedom on the Wallaby

Australia’s a big country 
An’ Freedom’s humping bluey, 
An’ Freedom’s on the wallaby 
Oh! don’t you hear ‘er cooey? 
She’s just begun to boomerang, 
She’ll knock the tyrants silly, 
She’s goin’ to light another fire 
And boil another billy. 


They are not wanton, but in the course of solving the practical problems of making a comfortable shelter, several trees may have to go


Click to access 1961Westerly+no.+1.pdf


Old And New

Thou hast made me known to friends whom I knew not. 
Thou hast given me seats in homes not my own. 
Thou hast brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger. 

I am uneasy at heart when I have to leave my accustomed shelter; 
I forget that there abides the old in the new, 
and that there also thou abidest. 

Through birth and death, in this world or in others, 
wherever thou leadest me it is thou, the same, 
the one companion of my endless life 
who ever linkest my heart with bonds of joy to the unfamiliar. 

When one knows thee, then alien there is none, then no door is shut. 
Oh, grant me my prayer that I may never lose 
the bliss of the touch of the one 
in the play of many.

Rabindranath Tagore



Through the creation of personal media Internet users form ‘just-in-time-just-like-me support groups’ that expand and further their personal networks.”

~ Lee Rainie

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“The most successful social media experiments—whether spearheaded by one person, a group of individuals, a company, or an institution—invite you in, treat you as a friend, and make you feel at home. Look around, they say, and tell us how we can make things better; get to know us. Get involved and tell us what you think.”

~ Melinda Blau

Some other Hand than mine was on that helm during the night.

Captain Arthur Rostron, reflecting on his safe passage among the icebergs to the lifeboats.

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“She loved the guy. She did it for him. She would’ve done anything for him. Some people are like that. Some loves are like that. Most loves are like that, from what I can see. Your heart starts to feel like an overcrowded lifeboat. You throw your pride out to keep it afloat, and your self-respect and your independence. After a while you start throwing people out—your friends, everyone you used to know. And it’s still not enough. The lifeboat is still sinking, and you know it’s going to take you down with it. I’ve seen that happen to a lot of people here. I think that’s why I’m sick of love.”

― Gregory David Roberts, Shantaram

Under the shelter of each other, people survive.

Ar scáth a chéile a mhaireann na daoine.
Err scawh a ch(k)ale-ah a wir-enn na dee-neh..

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Government alone cannot solve the problems we deal with in our correctional facilities, treatment centers, homeless shelters and crisis centres – we need our faith-based and community partners.

Dirk Kempthorne

Do not call the forest that shelters you a jungle.

~African Proverb (Ashanti, Ghana) african proverb

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If you are in hiding, don’t light a fire.

“I have learned to accept myself and rest in the fact that I am not defined by a scale or by someone else’s expectations or by my past (and future) failures. Instead, I am defined by my loving heavenly Father, who declares me perfect in His sight and reminds me daily that I am limited only by my own perceptions. So I just need to stop giving so much attention and power to my fears and, instead, simply agree with what He already sees.” ―

Michelle Aguilar, Becoming Fearless: My Ongoing Journey of Learning to Trust God

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It’s important to be heroic, ambitious, productive, efficient, creative, and progressive, but these qualities don’t necessarily nurture the soul. The soul has different concerns, of equal value: downtime for reflection, conversation, and reverie; beauty that is captivating and pleasuring; relatedness to the environs and to people; and any animal’s rhythm of rest and activity.

Thomas Moore (1779 – 1852)

I wish every one in the world was as warm and sheltered as we are tonight.

― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Windy Poplars

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Roused frae their cups the reeling wretches came 
And turn'd their steps to make a hell o' hame ; 
Save those wha lang by wanton folly led 
Kent o' nae shelter where to lay their head. 


You already possess everything necessary to become great. Crow


“Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers,
but to be fearless in facing them.
Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain, but
for the heart to conquer it.”

Rabindranath Tagore, Collected Poems And Plays Of Rabindranath Tagore