Tag Archives: Walter de Jong

“My kite” by Walter de Jong

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My kite

 

My kite’s caught in a tree.

I don’t think that I’ll be getting it down.

If I climbed up and my foot slipped

I could hurt myself when I hit the ground.

It cost a pretty penny. It was worth it all I guess

because the time when it was flying is the time I call ‘best’

 

My kite’s caught in the tree.

You can watch it now as it flaps in the wind.

So it’s more or less like a flag these days

of a country where I once was king.

It cost a pretty penny. It was worth it all I guess

because the time when it was flying is the time I call ‘best’

 

I can see it in my mind as it was lifted to the sky.

I could feel it pull away as it started on its rise.

 

My kite’s caught in a tree

but one day I think that I might get it back.

And it might be faded and it may be torn

but I’m pretty sure I’ll be right with that.

It cost a pretty penny. It was worth it all I guess

because the time when it was flying is the time I call ‘best’

“Rain deer” by Walter de Jong

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Rain dear

In Australia, when it’s Christmas hot,

A farmer’s keen for a little drop

of rain from heaven, upon his roof,

of Santa’s gifts, he looks for proof

Then drumming starts above; he hears

his wife call out “It’s rain dear!”

Walter de Jong

Rain Dear by Walter de Jong & A Christmas Poem by Bridh Hancock

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Rain Dear

In Australia, when it’s Christmas hot,

A farmer’s keen for a little drop

of rain from heaven, upon his roof,

of Santa’s gifts, he looks for proof

Then drumming starts above; he hears

his wife call out “It’s rain dear!”

Walter de Jong

A Christmas Poem

Christmas time, oh Christmas, Time of sentiment so nice.

Christmas time, ah, Family time, With poems by Helen Steiner Rice.

Christmas comes but once a year On the 25th of December,

And makes the rest of the year, With its sorrows and joys,

That much sweeter to remember.

Bridh Hancock

Cumin by Walter de Jong

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Cumin to my kitchen

is a warming winter soup

starring cauliflower of course

the biggest top in town.

Collected in my colander

Is my tender little troupe

but as I rinse them in a rivulet

something wriggles then rolls down

he has practiced this performance

to avoid birds and their beaks

he seems suited to a circus

he’s  like a caterpillar clown

Walter de Jong

Roaming Through the Ruins by Walter de Jong

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I’ve been roaming through the ruins

Finding the foundations

Sifting through the centuries;

The nativity of nations

 

A pantheon of the powerful

Creating colosseums

Stones torn from a temple

The remnants of religion

 

Even obelisks from Egypt

Claimed from Cleopatra

by Romulus and Remus

Are repurposed by St Peter

 

I’ve been roaming through the ruins

of Mankind and his motions

Sifting through the centuries;

The nativity of notions

Walter de Jong

 

 

Walter said: When I was in Rome I was struck by the juxtaposition of elements from ancient to modern times that could be seen and the evidence and influence of shifting political and religious tides through time; Egyptian, Greek, Jewish and Christian side by side, layer on layer in the exposed strata.

To a “T” by Walter de Jong

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To a T

My thought paused where paths intersect,

it knew which way was right

but what was left to know

was much more interesting that night

‘tis true that to the right

was where all sensible thoughts would turn;

avoiding less trod tracks, devoid of facts

where questions burned

but this thought had a mission;

to discover poetry

and he risked the world’s derision.

That way suits him to a t

Walter de Jong

Walter’s cloud theory: A cloud should fulfil its purpose of conveying something of substance which, upon precipitation, may nurture growth in the earth. A cloud should be impressive in itself; beautiful, awesome and individual; it should evoke feeling. A cloud should engage its audience and inspire them to find an echo of their own imaginings and create their own personal meaning. And in my own creations I will aim to emulate the clouds.

The Keyhole by Walter de Jong

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The Keyhole

 

Our cave we called the Keyhole,

we’d climb up there to see

the ferry carrying families

that drove out to the beach.

I’d sit there and imagine

floods rising high back then

to carve for us this keyhole

then rejoin the world again.

That door opened secretly

to millennia before

the cars, the ferry, boats and planes,

schools and rules and laws

And now…The ferry’s gone, and rust has taken

cars and boats and planes.

While I move on the Keyhole stays,

the secret place remains.

 Walter de Jong

Snail Allergies by Walter de Jong

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by Walter de Jong

Dear planter of my paradise,

I wanted to you to know

how much that I appreciate

the great greens that you grow

When whispering spring awoke me

From my winter’s hibernation

I beheld a feast prepared for me

beyond imagination

For twenty years we’ve shared this place

And pickings have been poor

But now we’ve got this vegie patch

It’s looking up for sure

There’s one thing I should mention though

I’m sure it’s not your fault

You might not understand

That I’m allergic to that salt.

Walter de Jong

Your Door by Walter de Jong

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Your Door

 

It was a new school, I was the young fool

It wasn’t long till I saw you

I made my mind up not to waste any time

till I first knocked on your door

 

You had a style, you had your smile

I wasn’t sure I had the nerve

I had a friend with me for moral support

When I first knocked on your door

 

I won’t forget that moment;

waiting for you to appear.

A look of pleasant surprise and…

then you asked me in.

Oh yeah!

 

That was the first time, but not the last time

That I was seen at your place

My parents ask me why I’m never at home

Since I first knocked on your door.

 Walter de Jong

My Kite by Walter de Jong

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My kite

 

My kite’s caught in a tree.

I don’t think that I’ll be getting it down.

If I climbed up and my foot slipped

I could hurt myself when I hit the ground.

It cost a pretty penny. It was worth it all I guess

because the time when it was flying is the time I call ‘best’

 

My kite’s caught in the tree.

You can watch it now as it flaps in the wind.

So it’s more or less like a flag these days

of a country where I once was king.

It cost a pretty penny. It was worth it all I guess

because the time when it was flying is the time I call ‘best’

 

I can see it in my mind as it was lifted to the sky.

I could feel it pull away as it started on its rise.

 

My kite’s caught in a tree

but one day I think that I might get it back.

And it might be faded and it may be torn

but I’m pretty sure I’ll be right with that.

It cost a pretty penny. It was worth it all I guess

because the time when it was flying is the time I call ‘best’

 Walter de Jong