Monthly Archives: November 2015

Kimberley man

The first sun shines at half past four
The red dirt makes a grass-less floor
This is a life of unique brand
For him they call “the Kimberley man”.

The fans are never cool enough
On leathered skin built Kimberley tough
But how do you tell the tourist fleet
You never get used to Kimberley heat.

But there’s a thinking that takes it slow
In rhythm with Ord River’s flow
There’s more to life than comfort and money
Like fishing for Barra without the hurry.

Albino gekko’s’ eat the flys
While the blue tailed kooka’s laughs and crys
Crocs and dragons and wallabies too
Live with the Owl who gives two hoots.

The Kimberley man is silently proud
Like a Kimberley king with a Kimberley crown
Of views a virtuoso would say
Is fit for a concert that he would play.

Wet season build up is only released
By cracking black clouds that sets you free
From humid sighs in front of the fan
And the unsaid life of the Kimberley man.

Kimberely man

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The smell of Kimberley rain

The daylight owl stops giving advice
From his throne on the Boab tree,
The Kimberley winds crank up a few gears
The Eucalypts mingle the breeze,
And bring a smell unique to Oz
That dulls the homesick pain,
The sound of drops smashing on tin rooves
Bring the smell of Kimberley rain.

The sound of the thunder cracks the sky
And let’s the cooling rain fall,
And everyone’s bare shoulder smiles
At relief from the heat in store,
While the hot red dirt greets an old friend
And the cracking thunder in the main,
Combine to give you a precious gift;
The smell of Kimberley rain.

The ancient land and it red ridge sights
Have seen it all before,
For this is the build up to the summer rains
That opens the wet season door,
The sight of the lightening bisecting the black
Means no two moments are the same
And combines the eyegate and the ears
With the smell of Kimberley rain.

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