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Twenty Twenty


Twenty Twenty

Who controls the juggernaut?

I know naught

View the behemoth with woe

It’s so hard to make it slow

Blinded by the light

Shone to hide the plight

The virus is insidious

Both insidious and vicious

Ensure that everyone cleans

Promises of vaccines

To be obtained by any means

Then made by using machines

Until that time comes to pass

We should do nothing that is rash

We have the strength within us

We hold the royal flush

Keep our distance, do not rush

And this virus we will crush

It will always be around

Do not fret, hold your ground

2020 has been a write-off

You know that I do not scoff

Let us look forward to 2021

Then, I pray, the battle will be won

© Hamish McKenna

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New Poetry – Viewed From Atop

new poetry

New Poetry

Viewed From Atop

We stood still atop the Monolith
A Monolith steeped in myth
It appears to go for eternity
The view showed that perfectly
Across the plain the eye could see
Nothing but spinifex and gumtree

But hold, what is this?
A youth with a spear stalking
His steps, the spinifex dodging
A Wallaby he was watching
We were spellbound by his skill
To watch the hunt, quite a thrill
Closer and closer did he get
The Wallaby unaware of the threat

Closer now, his muscles coiled
Ready and sure he stood poised
With silent movements the spear took flight
Thrown with all his might
Straight and true the spear it struck
Against the aboriginals lance
The Wallaby had no chance

The bush suddenly alive
More and more did arrive
There was stomping of feet
And music with beat
With patterns painted upon the chest
Seated on the ground with legs crossed
Stories were told, the spirits were thanked

The young mans skills had proven to be ample
He had provided a feast for all to sample
By the time we got down night had fallen
They had moved on, everyone gone
But plenty we had to reflect upon
As we slept awaiting the new dawn