Colours of Courage by Monty Edwards

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Colours of Courage

 

When I see both red and white,

I think about a fabled fight

That took place long ago.

A soldier brave rode out to save

A maiden from a dragon’s cave.

That dragon was his foe!

 

With lance aloft and poised to pierce,

George rode toward that dragon fierce

And struck a lethal blow.

Then all at once its fiery breath,

Extinguished by its sudden death

Was scarcely seen to glow!

 

The horse, once white, was quite a sight

With blood-red smears gained in the fight:

A most courageous steed!

Without his horse, St George, of course,

Would hardly be a fighting force

And likely, first to bleed!

 

In fighting flame, George made his name.

When vict’ry came, he gained great fame.

“The man’s a saint!” folk cried.

Now freed from fear and full of cheer,

They praised St George one day each year,

Long after he had died.

 

The story grew as stories do.

I fear that few may think it true.

I leave the verdict up to you.

Monty Edwards

Monty said: Lacking inspiration, I began to focus on the colours in the prompt, rather than the shapes. I grew up in the St George district of Sydney, my sisters attended St George Girls’ High School, while I followed and participated in St George sporting teams, all featuring red and white in combination. It was time to research the legend and begin to acquaint a new generation with it.

Bird Registration by Lynelle Kendall

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Bird Registration

 

I’m standing in queue,

With you, you and you,

Feathered comrades all waiting to pay.

At the front sits an owl,

With a permanent scowl,

Give me patience! I’ve been here all day.

 

I’ve forms in my pinions,

And formed an opinion,

That registrations take too long.

At last it’s my turn,

With the owl looking stern,

Asking questions about right and wrong.

 

His queries abated.

How long I had waited!

Then he handed me paper and quill.

I loudly protested,

At the figure suggested,

So large was the size of my bill!

Lynelle Kendall

Beach by Dianne Bates

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Beach
by Dianne Bates

A grain of sand on its own,

A tiny world

in the palm of your hand.

But still, nothing much…

Add millions of other grains,

Shape them with sea-water

And you’ve got a sand-castle.

Next add trillions and trillions of grains                                                                                                                        Getting there…

And zillions and zillions more —

Now you’re talking!

 

Dianne Bates

Dianne says: I brainstormed for a long time listing all the close encounters a child might have — animals, insects, aliens and so on. Finished up on a beach with a child looking at starfish. It was only when I thought of sand, zillions of grains in close encounter with one another, that I thought of what happens as a result. Hence this beach poem!

Binocular Monocular by Sally Odgers

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Binocular Monocular

A binocular becomes a monocular, dear

If you forget to remove

One of the covers while tossing the other

What are you trying to prove?

Being like Nelson applying the eye

To a scene that you just cannot see?

Blind eye a’turning to half of the scene

That’s what it seems to me

Red tape, policy, jargon and all

Means nothing is seen in its breadth

Binocular or monocular, dear?

Use both eyes and you’re winning on strength

So remember removing both lens caps today

Will give you binocular vision

While squinting through one (while it might be more fun)

Will send half your senses to prison.

 

Sally Odgers

Holiday Time by Kate O’Neil

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Holiday Time

 

It’s summer

and it’s holiday.

The morning is

so big

it’s going to last

all afternoon

and the night

will have to go

home.

Kate O’Neil 

Guya by Lynelle Kendall

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Guya

 

Arc of horizon

Sea hugging land

The shape of myself

I leave in the sand

 

Hollow of woomera

Line of my spear

Poised over ocean

Sparkling clear

 

Shapeshifting shadows

Shimmer of scales

Strike fast as lightning

Timber shaft sails

 

Cuts through the water

Whoop with delight

We’ll eat barramundi

For dinner tonight.

‘Guya’

 

Lynelle Kendall

Lynelle says: Written in response to Poetry prompt #3 “Shapes”, the third and fourth lines of the poem refer to the U symbol that represents a person in traditional indigenous dot paintings. It is based on my experience at Daliwuy Bay in Arnhem Land, where I watched a boy fishing with his spear in the shallows. In his language – Yolŋu Matha – guya means fish.

Pelican Manners by Nadine Craneburgh

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Pelican Manners

Get in line
wait your turn
The early bird gets the
worm, or in this case, the fish
Schools play hide and seek
underwater, as well as
on land, and I was
first, so I am ‘it’.
Get in line, wait
your turn, or I
might eat you
instead!

Nadine Craneburgh

Nadine says: I imagined the sort of conversation that might happen in that situation – although the pictured pelicans look very well-mannered.

Blueberry by Sally Odgers

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Blueberry

 

blueberry bluetongue

green grass green

sunshine sunshine

polish me

glow me

sinuous slithering

not-snake-just-me

blueberry bluetongue

secrecy

Sally Odgers

Sally says: Written because I almost never write free verse. I was trying to rhyme and scan throughout.

 

Manatee Anarchy by Bill Condon

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Manatee Anarchy

 

There was once a well-mannered manatee,

who rarely indulged in profanity.

But when confronted with queues,

she blew every fuse

and swore with manic insanity.

 Bill Condon

 

 

 

Line Crime by Dianne Bates

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Line Crime

I’m sick of waiting for the bathroom
with Sister Susie taking her time
Preening herself while I’m busting to go —
that has to be a crime.

If Francis Drake had to wait in a bathroom queue
instead of setting sail on the sea,
he might not be known at all today
simply because of a pee.

Dianne Bates