THE SUNDAY WHIRL
asks us to use the words in the above wordle
IS NOTHING SACRED?
Is nothing sacred these days?
Is everything seditious?
Is everything sporadic,
Or am I just suspicious?
We enmesh ourselves in rumour
We walk with wary tread
We live in the nether regions,
Every tremor brings us dread.
Once the world seemed peaceful,
Though maybe rather quaint,
But was each saint of those days
Only a plaster saint?
Each tuft of grass seemed precious,
Unbreakable each pledge,
Yet nothing seemed to hinder
Us going over the edge.
But maybe human existence
Is always marred by stigma.
My time, our time, their time......
Always an enigma.
*
*
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FIRST LIGHT
We drifted in from New Zealand before the sun was high;
While still the little silver stars were pricked-out in the sky.
Slowly, under the Harbour Bridge, as quiet as a mouse,
And then, in a stealthy manner, past the Opera House.
Then, stamped-upon the morning grey, a yellow opening, where
A sign of life showed passengers that someone was aware.
Then, stamped-upon the morning grey, a yellow opening, where
A sign of life showed passengers that someone was aware.
The city wasn't stirring, save for the Terminal Staff,
Who sometimes broke the silence with a cough or a little laugh.
I stood on the balcony alone and thought of another date
Nearly forty years ago when our family sealed its fate,
Moving to a country where we'd never been before,
Not knowing anything at all of the life that lay in store.
For a while it seemed like yesterday. And yes, we did survive.
*
But we suddenly bumped against the wharf and everything came alive!
The shouting, bustle, lights and noise drove my reverie away,
And I was happy to enjoy another Australian day.
*
