Impossible Dreams

Come to Australia she said lightly
You�ll love the beaches
So I dove into her poetry
To see what aussie land was like
Such bodacious formality
Such outrageously beautiful prose
The majesty of it all
All those masked contented feelings
Family familiar winking at the night
All pounding beneath the polished
Veneer of armored gentility
Sweet slow afternoon teas
Late morning crumpets and marmalade
Alas I cannot lass though dearly
Would I love to try.
Spin me tales of twisted eucalyptae
Brown burnt grass and men
Winds and sandy gritty rutted roads
And the sight of gulls awing along the bay
Is New South Wales a mirror of the Old?

Reviews

[An Ordinary Woman]

I was once enthralled by a poet. We met. Hung out too many years. Eventually I wrote angry poetry about him that cost me way too much. He was all words, a prisoner of his words. It's sad and bad. Still I see him using the same stale lines on another...

Bravo!!! An excellent poem, Donald!

[*** Hey Jude***]

Nice flow, coupled with vivid images to these thoughtful recollections! A great ending, with hope for better beginnings! Always amazing Donald! ~ :-)

[Phibby Venable]

this is excellent, donald, i love how you bring everything out at the end
with such rugged imagery.

[Patrick]

huge hands clapping continually at this...some moments of sheer brilliance here...that question at the end finishes it perfectly

[Ken Simm.]

I think we all wish for the antipodes. Well except for those that live there. This conjours a wonderful dream. And is so well written.