A riot of colour, unfurling the plain,
as you drive the vast ways in Australia.
Vivid and broad, the landscape is changed
painted in hues of the flower.
Viridian and gold, violet and blue
the dirt itself is red,
sets off a contrast, a vision of hues,
no other place on Earth - homebred.
The Queen of Sheeba, occupies the space
as the everlasting colours transform,
the majestic camouflage of winters embrace,
defies the rules of the tundra norm.
Deprived of water, for the desert's their home,
they challenge the grace of the source,
emitting small buds against the furious loam,
life's promise, a powerful force.
Life will out, and new beginnings begun,
a testament to hold in wonder,
for winters drought, under our burning sun,
cannot deter these flowers down under.
25/10/2018
If I was a maggot
By Stanley Russell Harris
The new mad Author
If I was a maggot in the UK today! No doubt I’d have a short life.
If homebred, I meant to say; no doubt I’d find myself in a bin.
With others all a wiggling.
Then someone no doubt will take me out. Into the fresh air without a doubt!
Then if unlucky to my dismay, a barbed hook will be pierced through me one day.
Through the air I would then fly.
Land with a splash also says I. Then water would encompass me.
And swimming to the surface, will be an impossibility.
As I’d be weighed down by weights you see.
As I hold my breath and struggle so. A fish appears and attempts to eat me you know.
Suddenly it’s also on the hook, we are pulled out and the fish unhooked.
On this occasion, I fell onto the ground.
Wiggled away and was not found.
Where I crystallised and became a fly. Now when I mate I will see our eggs.
Are in the wild so our babies won’t die!
At least, not before they can become blue bottle flies.
And into the air just buzz off and fly.
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