20150802: A Paen to Home

As I cross the river bridge

I see the cockatoos

perched in the gum trees

up on the ridge.

I know then, that soon,

I'll be home again.

Some dislike the birds;

I love to see the white of their flight

and the yellow of their crest;

there is music in the sound

of their voices foraging for seeds

calling each other from dawn till night

When I've been away

I'm always pleased to be back

The colours of the land hold sway

over my heart, always there

despite any attractions 

the rest of the world can offer.

I love the brilliant blue of the sky

and the colour of the trees

that particular dull olive green

that cannot be described

and I often wonder why

anyone can call them ugly.

Even the drop bears seem friendly

and snakes and spiders merely pests,

even the heat of summer can be a delight.

And when our country exerts its might

and storms and floods destroy

whole towns and villages gone

in a flash of rain and flood:

that's how it is at home.

Other places have their beauty

But there is never a place

So beautiful as home  

26 July 2015

197 words  35 lines

submitted to AllPoetry.com contest Just Write hosted by Westva Princess  Prompt: write whatever you wish ... let your muse have pure freedom.  

I have travelled widely and am always glad to come home.

closed 18 Aug 15.  No place.  

closes