Thursday, February 23, 2012



(Pronounced 'Karindigh' with the emphasis on the second syllable.)

Set among the gentle hills of inland New South Wales,
And far away from all the world's alarms,
The little town of Quirindi is a quiet sort of place,
Never boasting of its very many charms.
I would have passed it by, I know, except for family ties,
Which caused me to enjoy it now and then.
My daughter has since moved from there and so I don't expect
That I'll ever journey up that way again.
But I still recall the golden hills that shone there in the drought,
The cattle lowing in the cattle sheds,
The horses running up to greet a walker passing by,
And, in Spring, the many glowing flower-beds.
When city life gets noisesome  and I long for peace and calm,
And my nerves feel that they're just about to fray,
I fantasise I'll pack my bags and get on the next train
To that haven in the hills, Quirindi way.


(An Acrostic)

Oceans surround it! Pounding, pounding!
Under our feet are treasures astounding!
Riches are everywhere! Life unbounding!
Let us not waste
And ruin in haste
Nature's largesse!
Do more with less!

1 comment:

Kat said...

but why fantasize?
You should pack up and jump into a train to this heavenly sounding place- QUIRINDI.