(An Australian Dilemma)
Tasmania is lush; the folk who live there love it.
Though it may be that foreigners may not yet have heard of it.
It's the little island state at the bottom of our land
And when one pays a visit it's not hard to understand
Why Tasmanians think the mainland is all too hot and dry;
Their state is blessed with water and here's the reason why.
The mountains to the west flow their waters to the east,
And in all the State's long history the flow has never ceased.
The Mainland is susceptible to drought with frequency;
Farmers without water are not a rarity.
Except along the Murray River, which is very, very long,
But where, just in the past few years, things have been going wrong.
So much water has been taken, chiefly for irrigation,
That the river is now dying! A dreadful situation!'
The Murray-Darling basin is an area of worth;
It feeds our population and many others on this earth.
But how to save the river? The Government has been guided
By avid conservationists and they have now decided
That the farmers must use less water! Imagine the consternation!
Our agricultural industry is a backbone of our nation!
So I envisage a future time when the farmers all migrate
To the fertile plains of Tasmania, our little island state.
It's the very same size as Scotland, and so there's lots of room.
The idea has certainly made the news...... which is always full of gloom.
It wont be in my lifetime, maybe not for a hundred years,
But it seems a good solution, till a better one appears.
Reducing the number of farmers would let the Murray regenerate,
And Australians could prove to be the masters of their fate.
CLASH OF THE TITANS!
How could they believe such rubbish?'
These are words I've often said,
Speaking of the ancient stories
Of gods living overhead.
Yet, these clouds seem almost human
As they face each other here;
One 'god' bearing-down all golden,
The black 'god' cowering in fear.
One feels gullible and simple
In the face of such great power,
Ancient legends feel quite normal
As two giant cloud-forms tower!
We expected clashing sword-fights,
Lightning strikes and anguished cries.
But a fickle wind came blowing;
We were left with sunny skies!