“Let the show go on”  by Celia Berrell

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Let the show go on

 

For you and me

it’s free to see.

The greatest show around.

The cast’s

eleven million of

the life forms that abound.

 

From big-screen species

super-stars

like humans; dolphins; whales.

To tiniest of

microbes making

sure our show won’t fail.

 

The plants provide

the perfect props

and stunning back-drop scenes.

All intertwined

with DNA

and fascinating genes.

 

The show is so

tremendous.

Full of life’s variety.

Our planet Earth’s

X-factor is …

BIO-DIVERSITY!

 

First published in CSIRO’s Scientrifficmagazine, No 65 January 2010

The Reluctant Racehorse” by Monty Edwards

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The Reluctant Racehorse

Old Roscoe was a racehorse who no longer wished to run.

He’d had enough of coming last. That didn’t seem like fun.

Each day his trainer woke him with an early morning call, 

But Roscoe still felt sleepy and he wasn’t pleased at all.

He hated the old trailer that would take him to the track,

Nor did he like the jockey who’d be sitting on his back.

His owner, who would watch him train, just wanted extra pace,

But all that Roscoe longed for was to be some other place!

 

Once, when the trailer halted and glum Roscoe looked about.

He thought he recognised the spot and wanted to be out.

For what he saw was lush green grass and trees providing shade

While underneath those lofty gums a group of children played.

He looked in vain for jockeys, and the grown-ups there were few,

But then he spied the trainer , and the owner with him too.

The trailer door was opened, then the trainer led him out

And that was when the children all at once began to shout.

 

“It’s him,” they cried. “It’s Roscoe! Maybe Dad will let us ride.”

“Remember, Dad, you promised!”  “Yes, I did,” their Dad replied.

“Old Roscoe’s finished racing. It just seems he’s had enough

Of chasing younger horses  – no more winning. It’s been tough!

The fact is, he was born here, and he loved it from the start,

But when we took him off to race, it seems that broke his heart.

He’s home now. No more racing. He’ll be happy here at last.

Old Roscoe’s found there’s lots you miss when always running fast.”

 

– Monty Edwards

“Carnival Roundabout” by Julie Cahill 

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Carnival Roundabout

Marmaduke our winning ram

won the raffle and home he came

T’weren’t US who won HIM at the show

the judges messed that up, you know.

saying ‘here’s your special prize

for guessing both his weight and size’

The Marm who wasn’t any ram

he chased the cows and drained Dad’s dam

he grew and spread with every day

eating cats and dogs and hay

And when the next show came around

Marm went on the roundabout

Another girl then took him home

My sister Jill, and home he came

Julie Cahill

“Lost Generation” by JR Poulter

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“Unknown Soldier” by Katherine Gallagher

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Unknown Soldier

 

 

We have covered him with real flowers

and taken him from country to country.

 

It’s always the same journey –

people standing in the streets

silently saluting

as we carry him by.

 

And our hands tremble

under his weight,

our eyes are shocked

by the riddle of tongues

presenting the same paradox

in every country –

the whole human voice as background

shrilled to fever

about keeping the guns at bay.

 

Katherine Gallagher

(Published in Carnival Edge, New & Selected Poems, (Arc Publications, 2010)

“If I had a pony” by Julie Dascoli

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If I had a pony

 

If I had a pony, only if I did,

I would call him Darcy, Darcy the Kid.

I would feed him carrots and sometimes some hay,

I would brush his long tail and ride him all day.

Out of the paddock, through the rusty gate,

We’ll be friends forever, as Darcy’s my mate.

When the sun is setting, and the birds go to bed,

I will say “Good night,” and kiss his sweet head.

“The Seahorse and the Mermaid” by Madonna George

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The Seahorse and the Mermaid
The seahorse and the mermaid went up to the water’s edge one day
To glimpse at the world above-
Together they winked and leapt out of the water and to golden sands they played.
They strolled in the shine of the sun, and warmed their bodies and giggled some more.
For their’s was an adventure that day
An odyssey different to the sea.
The shells they found were presents for Neptune and all the seahorses galore,
that fretted and cried for seahorse’s absence.
For they were creatures of the sea
A family yet unamed by sciences and formulas
The mermaid she dipped her sunbronzed body
back into the sea and sweetly murmured to the seahorse
Wait for me!
Madonna George

“A Tribute to WWI Military Dogs” by Robyn Youl

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LEST WE FORGET.

11/11/19-18   >  11.11.2018

HIS MASTER’S VOICE.

A Tribute to WWI Military  Dogs

 

His Master’s Voice has gone

Dogs do not understand goodbye

He watches waits and grieves

Why do the women cry?

 

A War Dog has a focus

Love dictates the choice

The wailing shells surround him.

His world, His Master’s Voice

 

He did not care to understand

Why humans kill or play

Be it German, French or English

His Master’s Voice his day

 

Evading deadly Allied Bullets

On German Voice command

A precious load strapped to his back

He skims the mire of No Man’s Land

 

Blueruns with army orders now

There are no sheep or cattle

Blueonly hears His Anzac’s Voice

Above the roar of battle

 

A Red Cross Dog saves lives

Aiding those who still draw breath

The Stretcher Bearer’s Voice

Braves the screaming stench of death

 

Flanders fields are still blood red

Killing is still glorified

Men and dogs are still at war

Will we ever turn the tide?

Robyn Youl

 

 

Both sides trained Military Dogs.

World War I dogs were used to carry messages, first aid kits and transmission wiring. Some dogs were army mascots.

Small dogs were also useful in the trenches to kill the hordes of rats that swarmed  in the filth and squalor. Removing sick and dead men from the trenches was difficult. They were high, narrow and usually had stagnant water lying in them. Rats thrived.

The rule was Keep your Head DOWN!!! Sharp shooters on the other side of No Man’s Land were just waiting to put a bullet into any head that poked up.

No Man’s Land was the distance between enemy trenches. It was covered on barbed wire. After the troops had come out of the trenches to Charge the Enemy, No Man’s Land was the place of the dead, the injured and the dying.

The sound of shelling, machine gun and rifle fire began at daylight and did not finish until it was too dark to see.

At night the stretcher-bearers were busy taking the wounded to safety. Other soldiers were collecting Dog Tags or Identity Discs from the dead. These were used to change the records to Killed in Action and send a telegram and letter to the next of kin.

 

The Australian Armed Forces still train war dogs. If you love dogs you might like to find out more about them.

 

Horrie the War Dog  by Roland Perry is an interesting yarn about a dog who worked with the Austrailan Army in Egypt.

 

“Heroes” by Mary Serenc

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Heroes

 

Clap, yes clap loudly

For only they know the suffering

Memories etched in time-worn faces

Framed in the windows of the RSL bus.

 

Clap, clap hard

For the years unlived,

For those left behind.

 

Clap, don’t stop

For the ones still marching,

Medals hanging heavy on their hearts.

 

Clap for them

Clap for them all,

For only they know

The silent horror of war.

 

Mary Serenc

 

“MY RACEHORSE“ by Ron Marsh

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MY RACEHORSE

 

I’d like to own a pacing horse,

Or maybe just a pony.

I’d take it to the racing course,

To join the ceremonies.

 

He’d always be fed every dawn,

With oats and hay and corn,

A horse would never hungry be,

If it belonged to me.

 

I could not care, there’s no disgrace,

Should it never win a race,

I’d be so happy just to own,

A racehorse of my very own.