Hyacinths in a trance, bewitched by hysteria,
Amid the shadows of a mythological eclipse.
Elixir of roseate red oozing out loose progeria,
In islands where the sea weeps azure breaks.
Amid the shadows of a mythological eclipse,
Daunting me subtly with its crimson smell.
In islands where the sea weeps azure breaks,
From golden dust to smooth bristly as well.
Daunting me subtly with its crimson smell,
The fading breaths of sinister falsehood.
From golden dust to smooth bristly as well,
On black graveyards to azure seas, we stood.
The fading breaths of sinister falsehood,
In the sunken bronze halls of antique disease.
On black graveyards to azure seas, we stood,
Teals are being tormented by nightly noise.
In the sunken bronze halls of antique disease,
Elixir of roseate red oozing out loose progeria.
Teals are being tormented by nightly noise,
Hyacinths in a trance, bewitched by hysteria.
Written: May 22, 2022
Blinky Bill, and the wonder of all fairy tales
Snuggle Pot and Cuddle Pie and Hump Back Whales
Vegemite, ice cream, and violent crumble bars
Waltzing Matilda and The Southern Cross stars
The outback, the cities and a Coolabah tree
Golden sand, Billabongs, Damper and Billy Tea
Meeting singer John Farnham and saying G’day
All very special in their unique Aussie way
The flowers of Australia just blooming for you
The funny centipede with all his little legs
Christmas trees, Santa, and lots of Easter Eggs
A Butterfly, a rainbow, your parents tender love
Kookaburras, and sunshine and heaven above
Twinkling stars, laughter, your favourite toy
No matter how fleeting they’re yours to enjoy
Funny clowns, Birthdays, and big aeroplanes
Taking you places with magical names
Your playmates, family and favourite teddy bear
Are there to love you and your world to share
So smile dear Becky we love you too
May you treasure every day that life smiles on you.
Be at peace dear Becky, we will always remember you
And how in a plane I once with you flew!
To all the little children with Progeria disease
Let us find cure, until then, a wondrous life please!
Progeria
No one knows what to do
But to stare and be rude
When a child of four is old
They just stand there and stare
Without any care
And the child suffers the stranger’s cold
And Life may not seem fair
When a girl has no hair
Like I said, she’s only four
But she takes it in stride
And has nothing to hide
It is the stranger that is poor
So no matter the eyes
That continually spy
Into her daily play
She is the purest gold
For me to hold
And I’ll love her everyday!