daddy's brow was wrinkled in despairing woe
he'd planted a cotton crop by the river Neosho

a long lasting drought gripped the fields
which finished daddy's cotton yields

in the year of nineteen thirty two
months of dryness did relentlessly ensue

daddy cried out for rain
his crop lands were in such dire pain

the soil set to a crust so hard
nothing flourished in daddy's cotton yard

he'd sweated and toiled in the grit all day long
where his hopes faded of harvesting a bright song

the fool's gold of cotton farming was an illusory dream
which spoiled daddy's income stream

since the beginning of time
the weather has had a varying rhyme
years of prolonged droughts
years of flooding touts
the experts in climatology
will vouch for the anomalies
weather patterns don't follow
a defined trail
there are deviations
in their prevails

the debate on climate change
is one which has
caused us to think
has our planet
neared the brink

we'll have the answers
to this query
should there be
any miscalculations
in the climatologist's
proclamations

weather cycles have not
always been the same
one year can be unlike another
weather isn't
set in stone
it can go off
on a detour
as it has a mind
of its own

suddenly the world
is so plentiful
suddenly the world
looks wonderful
suddenly the world
sings with delight
suddenly the world
has skies so bright

it's all because
we've found love
my dear
and our love
shall ever endear

in divine devotion
our hearts shall beat
with an accord
which is so sweet

suddenly the world
is full of closeness
suddenly the world
has a wealth of happiness
suddenly the world
dances in time
suddenly the world
is replete with joyous chimes

forever our love shall stay
in each moment of every day

darling our love
is meant to be
and we'll combine
beautifully

suddenly the world
speaks of our adoration
suddenly the world
voices its elation

may a powerful witch put a hex
on that man
with the God complex

as we're celebrating
with family and friends
on Christmas day
give a thought to nations
who are in the fife
of a destructive flay

there will be no peace
all harmony unkempt
the tones of happiness
in these lands exempt

munitions reining down
terror in every street
the frightened war weary
caught in a violent cleat

the wailing of innocent children
the grieving heart of a mother
humanity lost in the woods
the planet's brotherhood in smother

and the joys of Christmas
we'll have to share
yet there will be places on our orb
dowsed with pain and despair

Syria and Iraq
those trouble riven territories
where there is an ongoing
legacy of animosities

merry and mirthful
shall be our Christmas day
but let us not forget war torn countries
far beyond our homeland's bay

last night the break in artists
had a five finger free shopping spree
they made off with anything and everything
which wasn't nailed down
the amount of items they stole
made for a handsome heist
the leaf blower got taken
so did the chainsaw
a full set of wrenches
and sundry other stuff
twas a most unexpected thing
when I got to work this morning
to discover that there had been
a quantity of freebie lifting

tock tick
tock tick
went the clocks
they were not
correctly calibrated

tock tick
tock tick
the cuckoo bird
thought his clock
had turned absurd

tock tick
tock tick
all the clocks
were well out of kilter

tock tick
tock tick
twas most strange
listening to clocks
which had become
most deranged

tock tick
tock tick

the grim reaper adverts
show on television sets
told of a disease which
was not sparing of upsets

the virus spread quickly
among the gay community
so too within the *** worker
and blood donor's fraternity

famed people contracted
its most awful lade
they weren't excused
from its dark *****

their faces became
very hollow of look
not like those seen
in a healthy picture book

Rock Hudson
Arthur Ashe
Freddie Mercury

medical researchers
joined in a global fight
to contain the splay
of this dreaded blight

International Aids Day
is marked on the calendar to- day
a day to remember the many folks
who won't be here this day

one gathers
the hottest burning
kindling one can

for the most ferocious fire
shall be lit beneath
that man

a hellish roasting
is what he
so richly deserves

let the flames
destroy
him with verve

may the inferno
consume
him greedily

until nothing
remains
of his body

the fierce fire
shall placate one

when that man's
form is better than well done

where does the gravel come from
how can the sea but move
for many thunderous miles
the shells and rocks so smooth
and lay them as one on the beach
for two hundred yards or more
amid the cleanest and softest of sand

there's some half the size of a pea
of yellow brown and white
the black ones mixed in with the grey
truly a colorful sight
some striped some orange some green
but the one which seems all too few
is the color that's always my favorite
when will I find one of blue

those who've wandered for years
on beaches all around the land
will know of the longing frustration
a blue one to have in the hand
they're in all the fish ponds and maybe
it's paint which gives them their hue
but surely dear old mother nature
could knock out a few colored blue

tomorrow I'll go out again
in the beautiful glow of the dawn
wander for miles on a search
to see if my blue one has been born
holding on grim to the faith
akin to a clover of four
I know that in the sand there
is a glorious blue one for my score

the Manly team racked up a big score by half time
they executed play with the brilliance of prime
Parramatta couldn't register one single point
their brand of league not of the try or goal anoint

when play resumed for the second half's concluding session
it was clear that the Manly Eagles would lead the procession
the Parramatta Eels were lacking game commitment
they needed possession of the ball's vital equipment

penalties and mistakes bought Parramatta dismay
of their play there'd be no hip hip hooray
the final tally showed Manly's field advantage
which was to the loser's woeful disadvantage

the cat has gone missing, where oh where did he go
the cat has gone missing, where oh where did he go
tis not his style to take off, he's a home-body
tis not his style to take off, he's a home-body
where oh where did he go, tis not his style to take off
he's a home-body, the cat has gone missing

could he be in a tree, sussing out a bird
could he be in a tree, sussing out a bird
what is he up to, one must go looking for him
what is he up to, one must go looking for him
what is he up to, could he be in a tree
sussing out a bird, one must go looking for him

**** never ventures far, I hope he'll return
**** never ventures far, I hope he'll return
Mr Webb may have sighted him, during the day
Mr Webb may have sighted him, during the day
I hope he'll return, during the day
**** never ventures far, Mr Webb may have sighted him

the cat has gone missing, one must go looking for him
where oh where did he go, could he be in a tree
**** never ventures far, tis not his style to take off
Mr Webb may have sighted him, sussing out a bird
I hope he'll return, during the day
he's a home-body, what is he up to

the vast bush skies are alight
with a panoply of stars
they captivate the viewer
stunning is their blaze

as poets are an eclectic crew
they write their poems
with variable word brews

some like the standard mix
of adjectives and verbs
whilst others have a penchant
for more exotic herbs

divulging my unique verse brew
I shall not do
as a bush bard keeps
all of her own clues

an assortment of styles
are brewed in the world of poetry
which makes for a distinguishing
panoply

one hundred percent
is an ideal quota
there's perfection
in the quota

that's
the
quota
all
gals
so
love
on
guy­s
giving
one
hundred
percent
of
their
love

no other quota
will suffice
it's got to be
one hundred percent
that quota
is so nice

why give
forty percent
why give
sixty percent
always make it
one hundred percent

it's a simple maths equation
one and one
equals a well entwined two
and it only happens
when one hundred percent
ensues

the white ants have eaten
the timber decking
as we didn't keep
checking for white ants
being present in the decking
the decking is much like honey comb
as the white ants ate into it
as if it were a piece of styrofoam
the decking is not fit for anything
and it requires replacing
when those white ants get together
for a munch out
they always make sure
that they hollow
the timber well out
munch
munch
munch
they've been on a devouring romp
chomping the decking
with a munching pomp

within the campsite's closed up enclave
a general kept many a trooper slave
on hearing strident orders being spoken*
they'd jump to the commands that did sound
as these strict directives were oft around
each servile soldier was at this behest
doing what the big man would so request
but they tired of the marshal's token
a revolt put well in train there and then
they'd not be yoked to the despot's pen
their bid for liberty's run was a victory
on catching the tyrant whilst fast asleep
through an ajar gate ran the muffled sheep
*whereupon their freedom became history

within the next few weeks the shop fronts
in all the commercial streets
shall be displaying a large range
of Christmas treats

all of these items will be so enticing
they'll beckon our credit cards to spend
and by the end of this 2014 calendar year
our banks shall ask us to pay for our big spend

be a little on the wise side when forking the dollars out
as it may well leave our credit cards in a drought
Christmas spending is so much fun
but we should not let our purchasing overrun

beneath the ground many
thousands of souls lay

they had their lives
taken prematurely

songs of the requiem
play in remembrance

never shall the world forget
the disease's marring scar

that which dimmed a human's
light of existence

during the day large cloud bands*
have drifted slowly toward
azure colored ranges
*beyond our village

I can't wait to take retirement from my job
the day in day out grind makes me sob
after forty odd years of laboring real hard
I'll be a proud carrier of  pensioner's card

to put the feet up and relax will be so grand
no longer will I be at a job's constant demand
twill be a fantastic celebratory day
the day I give all my labor's away

Oft the tinge doth show itself for viewing
On occasion it remains in hiding
The hue covers lands with a paint of green  
Yet for months the pastures being burnt of tone
No drops give life to the countryside's bone
Clouds of restoring promise ne'er arrive
Hence the granite landscape doesn't come alive
Flourishes of verdant turf rarely seen
So as the days of summer go forward
Landholders aren't gifted with rain's reward
Looking at the skies e'er tinted in azure
Dryness prevailing not a spot doth fall
Farmlands are feeling the arid wind's squall
Oh for the soils to have good moisture