Chosen Poem
My Country
Of green and shaded lanes.
Of ordered woods and gardens
Is running in your veins,
Strong love of grey-blue distance
Brown streams and soft dim skies
I know but cannot share it,
My love is otherwise.
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror -
The wide brown land for me!
All tragic to the moon,
The sapphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon.
Green tangle of the brushes,
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops
And ferns the warm dark soil.
My Poem
My Land
I hate a contaminated sky
With black and Smokey air
Of cars passing by
Which give a nasty scare
Strong smell of burnt oil
No clean air I wonder why
Its not a big mystery
Just say I.
I hate a Boiling day
Which is caused by greenhouse effect
Because our ozone layer is damaged
Am I not correct
I hate our dirty seas
why can’t it be like before
With pure bright blue water
In which I prefer more.
Our forest has become more hotter
because of the logging of our trees
the bright Sun shinning
Which is giving me the ease
The new trees that grow
Represents a new craft
As it gets chopped again
Our existent becomes a draft.
Some where deep down
We do not know what we are committing
All the bad stuff we have done
We have to start admitting
But at the end we try to make it better
By creating things with less pollution
By realising that we can prevent it,
I think we have found our solution.
Although not everything is bad
Even though it is not rich and pure
And that we have a massive flood
Our land will soon be given a cure
For as we try every year
Our land becomes more bright
And our skies become fresher
So we have to work at it with all our mite
So everyone take more care of our land
So that we can make it new
Let our trees and plants blossom out
And let us grow more then few
For as this is hard to accomplish
If there is a will there’s a way
So lets give it all we got
And we will get better days.
Done By: Joey Arida
With black and Smokey air
Of cars passing by
Which give a nasty scare
Strong smell of burnt oil
No clean air I wonder why
Its not a big mystery
Just say I.
Which is caused by greenhouse effect
Because our ozone layer is damaged
Am I not correct
I hate our dirty seas
why can’t it be like before
With pure bright blue water
In which I prefer more.
because of the logging of our trees
the bright Sun shinning
Which is giving me the ease
The new trees that grow
Represents a new craft
As it gets chopped again
Our existent becomes a draft.
We do not know what we are committing
All the bad stuff we have done
We have to start admitting
But at the end we try to make it better
By creating things with less pollution
By realising that we can prevent it,
I think we have found our solution.
Even though it is not rich and pure
And that we have a massive flood
Our land will soon be given a cure
For as we try every year
Our land becomes more bright
And our skies become fresher
So we have to work at it with all our mite
So that we can make it new
Let our trees and plants blossom out
And let us grow more then few
For as this is hard to accomplish
If there is a will there’s a way
So lets give it all we got
And we will get better days.
Core of my heart, my country!
Her pitiless blue sky,
When sick at heart, around us,
We see the cattle die-
But then the grey clouds gather,
And we can bless again
The drumming of an army,
The steady, soaking rain.
Core of my heart, my country!
Land of the Rainbow Gold,
For flood and fire and famine,
She pays us back threefold-
Over the thirsty paddocks,
Watch, after many days,
The filmy veil of greenness
That thickens as we gaze.
An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land-
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand-
Though earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown country
My homing thoughts will fly.
Dorothea Mackellar
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