AUSSIE OUTBACK CHRISTMAS
Comin' 'ome in an aussie sleigh,
ol' tractor ute with a rusty tray,
with a big branch of Gum, it be
the Christmas tree .
hard to find 'em white ant free.
Nailed it to a webbed dusty wall,
usin' my boot as a hamma
watching all the spiders fall,
decorated with koala, snake an' goanna
.
Com' Christmas morn here in Whatabugga,
dis summa heat could cook a burra.
Da' ol' bath tub, empty with prezzies gorrrn,
taken outside to cook magpie 'n' corn,
while some have fun on the dusty lawn.
Some prezzies still on dah floor,
Beaut!, new hinges for the dunny door.
Mum is smilin' even more,
a rackit, for flies 'n mozzies galore,
near the size of a dinosaur.
Tis Christmas in dah' auzzie west,
with heat 'n' flies to enjoy the fest.
Singlet, shorts 'n' thongs,
our very best.
Be our guest,
and enjoy Christmas in the Auzzie west.
Categories:
white ant, christmas, culture, fun, hilarious,
Form: Rhyme
An architectural plan brought up my house,
Rooms,kitchen and wash room housed,
How came these white ant nests like leeches?,
Every room,kitchen and wash room nests,
Ant soldiers taken my plan to come up with their nests!
Categories:
white ant, pets,
Form: Light Verse
It tip-toes around
Or buzzes above
Its wings trailing behind
Like a bridal train
But unlike the bride
Walking towards new life
Your life is short and uneventful
In a few days
You will be dead.
As if you wish to deny your fate
You lift you bridal train
It transforms into a pair of wings
Which you spread towards the skies
And then you
Fly.
Minutes later you’re back
On the ground
Staggering around
Your beautiful train is gone
You were a hopeful bride
Now you’re a desolate widow
And your delicate gossamer wings
Lie next to you
Like a torn
Useless
Train
Beauty that was once your
Is no one’s.
In the last minutes of your life
I should like to think
That you’ll look back fondly
On your short
But glorious
Flight.
Categories:
white ant, animal, hope,
Form: Free verse
Termite/Whiteant fix
Out in west Queensland,
Lived a white ant pestered man,
Cos the white ants were attacking ,
Chomping on his house quite grand.
They seemed to love the skirting boards,
And would climb to get in em,
There in millions billions bloody hordes,
What would he do with dem?
He was poor as a church mouse,
To get em treated cost a few hundred,
Maybe could make not taste as grouse.
So onward then he blundered.
Some of the country boys,
Squirted diesel in the walls
To hit old white ant on the bearers n stumps.
Like a bee box buzzed the swarm.
They didn’t like the diesel taste,
He’d used a super soaker sorta,
Water pistol worked quiet well,
As I spose it oughta .
Country people swear by it,
the diesel 4 the termite,
one place he hit a nest a bit,
they buzzed the hypocrites,
will they return to nibble on,
the 4 inch timbers mate,
or will they stagger away,
get timber tasty for their plate?
Don Johnson 25-june-11
Categories:
white ant, adventure
Form: Rhyme