Mallee Poems - Poems about Mallee

... The shiny, silver gleam of wheel polished railway lines have been dulled by a thick scab of rust. Weeds have colonized the stoney ballast, the wooden sleepers have rotted away to dust. The ......

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...Roof top summer time The excellently exceptional Mischief mallee throwing ice from Hallway windows at passers-by Sunshine all the time sun gaze Am I blind? Summer CRAZE!! Hey! Whatever daze......

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...I’ve unfurled the Southern Cross tonight and put it On the wall, and as I gazed the longest while.. I thought I heard the dingo’s call? It couldn’t be as all Round me were the sounds of London go......

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...On my first trip to the outback across the endless plains, I saw a harsh and hungry land in pastel coloured stains. There are more secrets out there, than sun and shifting sand - It would take mor......

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...Lifting from the Millewa; swirling to the sky, billowed to the heavens, each particle drifts high. Closing down the clearness in an ever thickening rust, from dry and harrowed farmland, swirls......

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...Sitting on the back porch on a balmy summers morn and listening to the music of the dawn wondering who sang the song and where the bird is at; reaching for my copy, of ‘What bird is that?’ But ......

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...Spent all day cleaning up my car for a trip to Broken Hill. Serviced, oiled and greased. The petrol tank is filled. Left Adelaide for the open road; sun setting in the west. An orange sky slowly d......

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...Ah those trips along the Murray River, taking Tommy the dog for his stroll is a blessing for Gary and me, and really quite good for the soul. And some days we pick up a friend, whose knowledg......

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...If it were not for a song Midnight train to Georgia Little child runnin' wild Fellows mellow hanging Holler holler! Ketchup sandwiches Home alone Aah Dem days Mommy's home! Pity pat ch......

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...“Gotta’ ‘git’ ‘im!” Followed the howl of death. His cigarette burnt brighter, when he sucked another breath. “Will I get the gun and spotlight?” I asked rising from my chair. “Nar’, no sense!” the......

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...A twisting whirly musters hard baked leaves and bark. There’s another red sunset, just before it’s dark. The wilting wattles weep, and plea ‘I can’t live on!’ The strong keep fighting drought. ......

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...My aunty Gerty Gribble was a true blue pioneer as she and husband Harold ran a place called 'Bendemere'. Two dinkum Aussie battlers, who had given their life's blood to fifty years of toiling o......

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