I’m Back On Top Of The Hill

Hi dear friends, I’m trying to answer the photo prompt/challenge from Weekly Prompts. this new computer set-up isn’t going too well, but please don’t tell my brother, who came down from Black Hill in Ballarat and spent 4 hours on my computer trying to set-up all the appts for me

, and really he’s done a wonderful job. So from my high up on my perch here on top of Bell Post, I shall post these lovely pic’s of Geelong’s Botanical Gardens that I took on Tuesday, which is on top of a hill in the Eastern Gardens over looking our picturesque Corio Bay.

Haiku. Leaf

Vita Brevis is hosting another four-day haiku competition–taking place entirely in the comment section of this post!

How to Submit:

1. Submit one 5-7-5 haiku as a comment on this post — all topics welcome

2. Reblog this post on your blog or write a post announcing that you’ve entered the competition, linking back here

3. Give good feedback on other commenters’ work! [This is what it’s really about–you’ll be receiving good feedback, so try to give it to others as well]

Here’s my Haiku, It’s only the second one I’ve every done, I hope I’ve structured the format right, please if advise if I need to correct…..

Leaf

Spring’s about to start

Your winter withered my heart

Birds sing until dark

Goodnight

Goodnight Carole, our Anniversary Day was a fine affair, and here’s a song for you, just a gorgeous Australian ballad, it’s 12.40am, time to rest our weary bones, listen to some pleasant music for our bedtime dreams, enjoy, I’ll see you later on…….

Redgum – So Goodbye Lyrics

I loved your home at Springfield

And your chauffer-drive Jag
But the afternoons at the yaucht squadron
Rally are a drag
Your country home at Aldgate
Your horses and your friends
The alcoholic sunsets, the pleasure never ends
I’ve just begun to notice the cold steel in your eyes
So I say to you goodbye
As she goes on asking why

I’ve spoken to your father he’s a self made millionaire
Do you know where his factories are?
Do you know who lives there?
In squashy little red-brick houses far away from here.
They’re ugly and they’re all the same
The neighbours live so near
The way my famliy’s living there you’d not believe your eyes
So I say to you goodbye
As she goes on asking why

Your brother’s learning how to drive the jag in your back yard
Your father sits and tells me about how he’s worked so hard
Your mother’s introducting me with patronising grace
To all her bridge friends in the salon, little cakes and lace
My mothers working nightshift now, she’s working till she dies
So I say to you goodbye, as she goes on asking why

Your fathers firm owns factories not far from where we stay
The chimneys spewing thick black smoke
Across the night and day
The people live and work down there underneath that cloud of smog
The kids’ backyards are small and bare, too small to keep a dog
Dont tell me that they like it there, thats certainly a lie
So I say to you goodbye
As she goes on asking why

Please dont cry, you’ll find a lover very soon I’m sure
A Gentleman who’ll bring you roses
And lay them at your door
It’s not because your rich but ’cause
Your not prepared to think
The higher daddy rises, the more his workers sink
You won’t wake up in time my lady
You wont realize
So I say to you goodbye
AS she goes on asking why
So I say goodbye.

Tullawalla: Booklet #5

Hello dear readers, friends, family and followers. Sorry I’ve not been around to all my fellow bloggers on WP, with my usual diligence and zest. I’ve been very busy preparing my new booklet of poems. And in honour of my dear Carole, on this our Anniversary Day (42nd), I’ve just finished the manuscript (Phew and yeah !!), and this one is called, “Tullawalla: “Home Is The Air I Breathe”, and of course along with the other 4 booklets, all money’s that I make from the sale of these booklets goes to the Geelong MS Charity Shop. The list of my 5 booklets is below. These booklets are all printed here in my little writing studio/haven, put together by hand, and they’re a foolscap size folder of 21 pages and 40 poems in each booklet

Tullawalla, Poems, By Ivor Steven Tullawalla, A Sign Of The Times Tullawalla, The Waves Say Goodbye Tullawalla, Who’s Left To Row The Boat

And, Tullawalla, Home Is The Air I Breathe

And I’m happy to say that I’ve now learnt how to print on both sides of the pages, thus halving my mailing costs for anyone interested in purchasing, for the price of postage and plus a donation for the MS shop. I have a PayPal account, to make payments easier.

Contents #5

Cheers

From Ivor xx

Some Time Now

Anniversaries, they come and they go.

Some time now, since that final May snow.

Anniversaries, they have floated past,

Some time now, I reminisce the last.

Anniversaries, none ever forgotten.

Some time now, since your everlasting smile was taken,

Anniversaries, from coral, to every hue.

Some time now, since our tidal-wave passed through.

Anniversaries, when love grew stronger,

Some time now, since the years became longer,

Anniversaries, a journey of love, suffering and pain.

Some time now, since our river filled with rain.

Your troubles fell with an Autumn leaf.

Forever enshrined within your gracious belief.

Redgum, Diamantina Drover

I’m posting another beautiful ballad by Redgum, Diamantina Drover, I’m not going to say much, my words aren’t needed, it’s a classic Australian outback story and song

Diamantina Drover: Lyrics, by Redgum’s Hugh McDonald

The faces in the photograph are faded
And I can’t believe he looks so much like me
For it’s been ten long years today
Since I left for Old Cork Station
Saying “I won’t be back ’till the droving’s done”

CHORUS
For the rain never falls on the dusty Diamantina
The drover finds it hard to change his mind
For the years have surely gone
Like the drays from Old Cork Station
And I won’t be back ’till the droving’s done

It seems like the sun comes up each morning
Sets me up and then takes it all away
For the dreaming by the light
Of the campfire at night
Ends with the burning light of day

CHORUS

ELECTRIC GUITAR BREAK (VERSE + CHORUS)

I sometimes think I’ll settle back in Sydney
But it’s been so long and it’s hard to change your mind
For the cattle trail goes on and on
And fences roll forever
And I won’t be back when the droving’s done.

CHORUS

Dumped

Weekly Prompt: Word Prompt, This weeks word is, Nuisance

I didn’t think I was a nuisance

Strolling around, minding my own business

Waiting, like the rest of my crowd

A sturdy warhorse, tall and proud

Delivering parcels to and fro

Rain, hail or snow

I do the best that I can

I keep myself gleamy and clean

Always courteous and patient

Give me a push and I’ll respond

I was controlled and strong

And I didn’t mind the little-ones

I’d happily lug them around

Screaming and kicking me

I’d stand there quietly smirking

Taking all their constant abuse

From both young and old

Why did I end up here

Dumped like an alley cat

Caged like a mongrel dog

Behind this fence of cold iron

On top of the towns highest hill

Under a dripping cypress tree

How did they drag me

Up the rocky track’s steepest incline

I’m scared, abandoned and alone

My old frame is turning grey and rusty

Am I finally at the end of the line

Scots Of The Riverina

John Schumann’s(Formerly Redgum) Vagabond Crew at Woodford 2010, performing Scots Of The Riverina, from the Henry Lawson poem, complete with blistering solos from Hugh McDonald on guitar and Alex (Alexander Stuart) Black on violin. Scots of the Riverina is a 1917 Australian bush poem by Henry Lawson. It relates the story of a boy who left his home in Riverina and is shunned by his family … .. The above Featured Imaged is of the Paddle-steamer EmmyLou on the Murray River, at Port Echuca, north Victoria.

John Schumann and The Vagabond Crew – Scots of the Riverina Lyrics

The boy ran away to the city from his home at harvest time
They were Scots of the Riverina, and to run from home was a crime
The old man burned his letter, the first and last he burned
And he scratched his name from the Bible when the old girl’s back was turned

A year went past and another, and the fruit went down the line
They heard the boy had enlisted, but the old man made no sign
His name must never be mentioned on the farm by Gundagai –
They were Scots of the Riverina with ever the kirk hard by

The boy came home on his “final” and the township bonfire burned
His mother’s arms were about him, but the old man’s back was turned
The daughters begged for pardon till the old man raised his hand
A Scot of the Riverina who was hard to understand

The boy was killed in Flanders, where the bravest heroes die
There were tears at the Grahame homestead and grief in Gundagai
But the old man ploughed at daybreak and the old man ploughed till the mirk –
There were furrows of pain in the orchard while his housefolk went to the kirk

The hurricane lamp in the rafters dimly and dimly burned
And the old man died at the table when the old girl’s back was turned
Face down with his bare arms folded he sank with his wild grey hair
Outspread o’er the family Bible was a name re-written there.

Gladstone Pier, by Redgum

Good morning dear readers, I’m getting ready for work, Ivor’s a busy plumber again. I’m listening to this incredible song, “Gladstone Pier” by an iconic Australian band, Redgum. I’ve looped the song, so I’m now listening to the music continuously for about the sixth time, and I hope you enjoy this song and the fabulous lyrics, as much as I am, on this pleasant Friday morning. My featured image above is of the Port Campbell Pier, on south-west coast, down here in Victoria.

Gladstone Pier, Lyrics by Redgum

Peter was a sailor
Swarthy lean and proud
He could take a schooner through a big sea swell
Aloof in the mainland crowd

She loved his quiet laughter
Like a boy he’d shrug and grin
The beach stretched wide at Port Mackay
With dreams upon the wind

He wore her name in a rose tattoo
Long weekends of gins and lime
She lived in Cairns, made plans to move
Checkout girl part-time
And rumour said, “There’s a boom ahead,
You can make your future here
By the Gladstone Pier”

A two-roomed fibro shelter
Empty hopes, the damp, the flies
Prices hiked, her face grew tight
And conversation died

And the foreman at the smelter said “You’re much too old
Try the canefields furthers north”
And the clerk at the market said “We don’t buy trouble
There’s a strike down at the port”

Then a six-day shift in a filthy pit
The drag lines gouging coal
The black dust gnaws at your lungs and pores
And the anger rots your soul
And the queue round the block waits for you to drop
Can you take it for another year?
By the Gladstone Pier

Every Sunday he’d walk alone
Casting pebbles at the passing waves
Plunge in brine, cleanse his pride
And a stronger man remains

The crunch of shale and distant sails
Ached within his bones
Seeing ships upon the tide
Bound for ports unknown

Soon he drank for comfort
She grew bitter in the weeks between
The nights of beer and hollow cheer
When love became routine

They fought, she left him crying
Angry words in a last café
In desperation on a lonely night
She took the bus to Cairns next day

Gladstone couples break that way
Mutual blame and no regrets
Boomtown blues just fade to grey
And all that’s left are debts –
He cried, “I’ve got to leave this dirty old town
and the rattle of broken men
Break these chains, wash the pain
And put to sea again
I drained all my passion, my anger and my fears
And sank them in a flagon
under Gladstone Pier”

She saw him through the Greyhound window
As the dawn glowed on the chrome
Standing by the pier under sullen skies
Sea winds calling home

From Surfers up to Townsville
Past the high-rise colonies
Fast food, cheap motels
And two more boomtown refugees

This song is from the album “Frontline”.

Hills And Hollows

Good morning dear readers, today’s poem is one I wrote on my phone while I was lying in bed early this morning, half asleep or half awake, answering a few of my readers comments. I would like to sincerely thank Kate of Calmkate – aroused, for inspiring me to write this piece, despite me being in a state of dreamy slumber.

Hills And Hollows

I’m a sprightly sparrow

I don’t like to wallow

Come fly with me tomorrow

Above the hills and hollows

I’ll swim the river of sorrow

Walk through fields of green and yellow

Pushing my old empty barrow

Full of my memories to follow

Looking for her golden halo

Somewhere over the rainbow