Friday, July 22, 2011




Come to Sunny Australia, where the weather is always good,
Where the sun shines brightly every day as you've always wished it would.
Come to a land of blistering heat and deserts brown and dry,
Where hardly a cloud obliterates the serenely azure sky.
Come to a land of healthy bodies, tanned and full of vim,
Where everyone leads and outdoor life and is always taut and trim!
Sorry, folks! It's balderdash! I took this shot yesterday,
When the air was full of icy rain and skies were entirely grey!
The wind was whipping up the sea into massive peaks of foam,
And people under umbrellas were rushing to get home!
The umbrellas all turned inside out and everyone was soaked!
When I wrote the previous stanza it's obvious that I joked!



It's good to be as shapely as the circles on the fence.
The metal-work is crisp and neat and bold.
The knot in the tree is shapeless; what to say in its defence?
It's gnarled, it's rough, it's rugged and it's old.
But, somehow, nothing human ever really quite achieves,
The beauty of a tree against the sky.
Our efforts can't compete with bark and trunk and boughs and leaves!
I wonder why we ever even try!

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