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politicians minds
are steeped in thoughts of war
their thinking unsound
yellow daises bloom
on my dried out back lawn
yet bees reap pollen
as day progressed
the signs of good rains grew less
bush skies were cloudless
on the ide of March
autumn trees will start changing
to rustic colours
on the eastern range
plumes of profuse grey smoke
did rise to the sky
cherish what you have
as some people have not a thing
be ever grateful
the vast sky glisters*
with millions of pinholes
on this clear bush night

we are fortunate
who view such a bright display
*its brilliance so grand
out of the darkness
emerged a lamplighter
shedding his bright glow
he so delighted
in exploring her garden's
bloom of loveliness
o'er night's dark canal
the moon's bright crescent did sail
like a gondola
man's constant feasting
on the planet's many riches
shall starve future gens
NB: Gens is an abbreviated form of the word generations.
o'er the black sea sky
the bright silvery moon sailed
throughout the long night
the neighbor's little pooch
just cocked his leg to ****
on the pub's back fence
golden leaf streamers
cascaded o'er the aspen's
tall majestic stem
evaporation
has taken much moisture out
of dam storages
afore the rains fell
river dwelling frogs croaked
in a profuse thrum
war is a madness
that causes too much sadness
let saneness prevail
a magenta hue
showed in this morning's sky
as first light dawned
clouds of crimson blush
painted the afternoon sky
in a lovely shade
bright yellow flowers
have commenced to display
on the wattle trees
in this part of Oz
there is an ancient spinster
who pines for love
a luminous moon
sailed o'er the sky last night
on a mystery tour
neath the maple's boughs
copper leaves were tumbling
in a mounded pile
merrily the birds
sing a refrain in the bush
they pleasure the ear
as day progresses
the wind's tempo has grown more
by eve she'll blow well
a gleeful trilling
emanated from the tree clumps  
robins were singing
fresh and printed new
as the glistening morn dew
tis a lovely view

old and so well worn
as the near dead cobs of corn
tis a sight forlorn
as the sun's sphere sunk
it bade goodbye to last year's
boatload of defeats
twas a very nippy morn
a largish frost did cover
our tiny township's lawns
elms in the front yard
have started to exhibit
autumn's amber hues
in a frantic mode
did come the Atlantic swirl
reeking havoc's toll
toward western hills
the last vestiges of light
sink as day draws down
Thor the thunder god
loudly rumbled through the night
he wouldn't be hushed
as winter sets in
village chimneys belch their smoke
more prevalently
bright yellow streamers
cascaded down the tall body
of the poplar tree
in the predawn fog
a faint outline of fences
could be observed
spring's seasonal hue
didst come in a primrose bloom
of vibrant pink blush
the sky on this day
shows a wintry shade of grey
dismal its display
a light veil of mist
lingered atop the creek
on this cool morning
the Empire shall fall
as it said so on a wall
outside the townhall
summer's golden orb
stayed for many a long day
its heat so intense
petite elm leaves
fell upon the school playground
like wedding confetti
a rattling tremor
coursed beneath the landscape
quaking all above
the sun's staring eye
looked through my west window
with a fixed gaze
promising cloud bands
filled with a moisture salve
veer away from here
in lovely refrain
a choir of currawongs chorus
their melodic tune
love's sating river
streams through adoration's heart
beautiful of theme
the neighborhood cats
are partaking of kitty fun
they're getting it on
as sunlight's last rays
sink over the horizon
night's long shadow looms
leaves of many hues
were strewn on the park-land's ground
as fall confetti
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