Monday, November 20, 2006

Servitude Down Under

No single word to describe

By day, punished by unforgiving UV glares
Smouldering road dust
By night, whipped by windy chill
Thank God for Baygon, Goretex and Milo!

Wonderfully blue sky
Big open fields
Mountains and vales a-rolling

Trees trees trees, green and waving
Others gnarled and frigid grey

Hurrying to toil,
Fatigued by fatigue and incredible inefficiencies
Interminable waiting, everywhere we go
Cursing, swearing, shaking heads

Freedom we crave and finally find
Swinging hammocks between trees, we slumber and laze
Except pesks abuzz - flies, mozzies, sandflies, ticks, spiders
Animals approach - lizards, emu, kangaroo
I swear I heard a dingo howl

Belt-tightening wonders of a combat diet:
Maggi mee and instant mixes we savour
Hard-tacs (some prefer mushy soft) we masticate
Ration packs we rip, uniform in colour and smell

The nights, unbelievably starry
Connect the dots… Orion’s belt, Big dipper
Now where’s Scorpio?
Spotting shooting stars by happenstance

Verse unfailingly brought to mind:
Then the LORD brought Abram outside beneath the night sky and told him, "Look up into the heavens and count the stars if you can. Your descendants will be like that – too many to count!"
Gen 15:5
Seeking refuge in the quiet and distant
Singing, praying, seeking, thanking
His presence near - undeniable and true
You’re amazing, Amen.

The usual cast, as colourful as always
Birds of a feather congregate
Jokes and banter abound
Horsing, crude, political

Reminiscing good time, bad times
Discussing gastronomy, what else?
And hobbies and relationships alike
Sharing lives and woes

Finally, Good day!
We scramble across dusty tracks
Pot holes and gullies no match for our fury
Racing back, relieved and exuberant

Battle scars abound
Sunburn apparent on noses and necklines
Flesh poked with angry swells

Now, spilling into sleepy Rocky, again bored
How many adult shops can one visit?
Art gallery discovered!

Back at the airport,
Fly me to the moon!

All in all, unfulfilling but insightful
Time a-ticking, not awaiting
The world surely passing us by

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