I lived inside a discomfort zone
For most of my years on earth.
I've felt self-conscious dancing,
Ever since my birth.
(Well, maybe not since birth, of course!
For at that early age,
Kicking my legs up in the air
Was certainly the rage!)
But, ever since my discerning years,
I've felt a perfect fool
Trying to dance like the other girls
Who pranced about at school.
I always felt off-balance
And as though I were pigeon-toed,
While other girls were light as air
And dancing 'a la mode,'
It's not that I was ever shy......
I'm a show-off, truth to tell.
But dancing left me feeling 'spare'
For I couldn't do it well.
When ballroom dancing came along
My feet still misbehaved
But I simply 'followed' where strong men led
And thus my 'face' was saved.
I've been a staunch 'non-dancer'
In every amateur show,
And I've always 'moved' instead of 'danced'
While placed in the back row!
This involved doing hand-rolls,
Or perhaps an easy sway;
Neither of these movements
Added much to the play!
But now I'm geriatric
And I've entered a different phase!
Not for me the hand-rolls!
I'm not the one who sways!
I admit I'm not too agile!
I admit I'm not too lithe!
But I intend to dance, my friends,
Till the Old Man comes with the scythe!
Those girls who danced so serenely
And did such pirouettes,
Are just as old as I am,
And no longer sweet coquettes.
We kick up our heels in 'The Lambeth Walk',
When asked to, in the choir.
Our choreography isn't great
But you should see us perspire!
'All things come to those who wait'....
As I wish I'd always known!
See! I'm dancing, dancing, dancing , Mum!
I'm in my Comfort Zone!
BRAN NUE DAY!
(The title if an all-Aboriginal musical.)
They have lived here
Since the end of
The last Ice Age,
Forty thousand years ago!
Just over two hundred years ago!
'We' have been White!
'They are from the Stone Age!' 'we' said.
They were also treated kindly.....
But on a lesser scale.
'We' are a nation of Twenty Million.
'They' are a nation of Twenty Thousand.
'But they hadn't progressed at all!'
Look where progress has got us!
Out of luck!
Choking on our own progress!
They had no need of progress.
The Earth gave them
All they needed....
Food, Warmth, Water.
They thanked the Earth
By being kinder to it
Than we were to them.
Our worst sin was taking away
From this arose problems
With drink, violence,
People of goodwill everywhere
Long for them to have
A 'Bran Nue Day!'
Bran Nue Dae tells the story of Willie, a young man growing up in the pearl fishing region of Broome. His mother Theresa, who has high hopes for him, sends him to a religious mission for further schooling. Willie is kicked out by the school after an incident and ends up meeting Uncle Tadpole. Together they con a couple of hippies into taking them back to Broome where more revelations await.