Cockatoo Twelve Years On '1995
It's been more than twelve years so they tell me since the flames of death passed through
Since the fire that caused destruction burnt it's way through Cockatoo
Lives were lost and houses burnt down blackened miles of countryside
And people wept for lost possessions for their life time work destroyed.
Tears for houses burnt to ashes, tears for lives lost in fierce flame
Tears for trees and paddocks blackened some say 'fire bug '
was to blame
Cockatoo a place of mourning only blackness to be seen
Only smell of smoke and burn out not one sign of Nature's green.
Twelve years on things seem so different Cockatoo looks green today
And who'd believe if you had not known that huge fire had burnt this way
Some still talk of their great losses and the hardships they'd been through
But they recovered built new houses and still live in Cockatoo.
Nature is her own best healer, Nature the true friend of man
Blackness caused by fire and burn out only last for a brief span
Cockatoo is one example what a change twelve years can bring
On green gum tree by the rail track i can hear the shrike thrush sing.
Here in cockatoo this morning fresh and pure the mountain air
Green the trees and green the paddocks green as i've seen anywhere
Twelve years back a blackened wasteland see how green she looks today
Nature is her own best healer and nature always has her way.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Cockatoo and the Kangaroo
The happy cockatoo asked the hopping kangaroo,
“Does everyone in your family have a purse like you? ”
The hopping kangaroo stopped and smiled at the bird,
Saying, “Calling it a pouch would be a better word.”
The happy cockatoo was interested in learning more
And asked, “A pouch? Please tell me what it’s for.
The kangaroo explained that she had become a mother.
This pouch was the home of this new precious other.
Out of the pouch the precious baby popped his head;
Looked at the cockatoo with a funny smile and said,
“You make me very nervous Mr. Happy Cockatoo.
Flying in the air with those arms on top of you.”
Mother kangaroo said, “Don’t be afraid of such things.
Since this cockatoo is a bird, those are called wings.
Just as we kangaroo hop on our legs to get around,
The cockatoo uses its wings to fly above the ground.”
The cockatoo said, “I guess it’s like my nest in the tree
Where I lay and hatch my eggs, then raise my family.”
Your ways seem strange. It’s different from what I see.
Though when I get to know you, you’re a lot like me.
We both have our babies and help them find their way
So they can love and raise their own families another day.
It’s this love we all share that shines brightly as a flame
Whether pouch, feather or wing, we’re all much the same.”
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fire Fighting Days
The sun is blocked out by a heavy smoke haze
Twelve miles south of here a huge bushfire blaze
It's way through the brown paddocks and stands of trees
fanned on by a warm and a freshening breeze,
Where-ever there's smoke there is fire to be found
And smoke travels by air for miles and miles around
The C F A the Country fire fighters are busy today
The destructive fire front they fight to keep it at bay,
Such courageous people one can't help but them admire
They risk their own lives to save homes from the fire
They display their courage in the gap of fear
Great stories of their bravery we so often hear
Through dry scrublands and paddocks the huge fire front blaze
We are in the Season of fire fighting days.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The East Gippsland Fires
In East Gippsland the fires are still going miles of woodland and farmland and bushland destroyed
The huge fire front it keeps on burning it's way through the brown Countryside,
Fires started by thunder and lightning and fires started by human kind
Amongst every rural community a firebug or two you will find
For many East Gippsland farmers a financial disaster by drought conditions already hit hard enough
The fires that have burnt to death many of their animals in their paddocks has made life for them far more tough,
The fire quenching rains are not coming the fires raging onwards and on
But the financial stress for them will continue and their heartbreak with the passing of the fires will not have gone
A tough time for farmers in general and they are facing a very tough year
But when fire rages in drought ravaged paddocks sad stories of heartbreak we do hear,
Many homes have been burned to ashes wildlife and domestic animals to the flames have been lost
Between drought and fire many rural communities left burdened with the huge financial cost
Left by the fire that burned it's way through their Country financial recovery for them may take years
And they will remember the bushfires that blackened the landscape with tears.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I'm Always Learning From Nature
For many years I have loved Nature but little about her I know
My knowledge of her is basic I know a finch from a crow
Recognize some birds by their songs know a wallaby from a roo
Know a wombat from an echidna and a rosella from a cockatoo
Just basic knowledge of Nature her secrets from us she hide
Nature who lives in Townparks and gardens and who reigns supreme in the countryside
I find her quite fascinating artists and writers she inspire
I can only sing her praises of which I never do tire
Nature is for everybody for to learn of and enjoy
And for decades of years I have loved her ever since I was a boy
Her secrets she has hidden from me so mysterious in her own way
I'm always learning from Nature learning from her every day
Yes I'm always learning from Nature and my wonder of her only grow
Yet from me her secrets she keeps hidden and little about her I know.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Stringy-Bark Cockatoo
I'm a broken-hearted miner, who loves his cup to drain,
Which often times has caused me to lie in frost and rain.
Roaming about the country, looking for some work to do,
I got a job of reaping off a stringy-bark cockatoo.
Oh, the stringy-bark cockatoo,
Oh, the stringy-bark cockatoo,
I got a job of reaping off a stringy-bark cockatoo.
Ten bob an acre was his price—with promise of fairish board.
He said his crops were very light, 'twas all he could afford.
He drove me out in a bullock dray, and his piggery met my view.
Oh, the pigs and geese were in the wheat of the stringy-bark cockatoo.
The hut was made of the surface mud, the roof of a reedy thatch.
The doors and windows open flew without a bolt or latch.
The pigs and geese were in the hut, the hen on the table flew,
And she laid an egg in the old tin plate for the stringy-bark cockatoo.
For breakfast we had pollard, boys, it tasted like cobbler's paste.
To help it down we had to eat brown bread with vinegar taste.
The tea was made of the native hops, which out on the ranges grew;
'Twas sweetened with honey bees and wax for the stringy-bark cockatoo.
For dinner we had goanna hash, we thought it mighty hard;
They wouldn't give us butter, so we forced down bread and lard.
Quondong duff, paddy-melon pie, and wallaby Irish stew
We used to eat while reaping for the stringy-bark cockatoo.
When we started to cut the rust and smut was just beginning to shed,
And all we had to sleep on was a dog and sheep-skin bed.
The bugs and fleas tormented me, they made me scratch and screw;
I lost my rest while reaping for the stringy-bark cockatoo.
At night when work was over I'd nurse the youngest child,
And when I'd say a joking word, the mother would laugh and smile.
The old cocky, he grew jealous, and he thumped me black and blue,
And he drove me off without a rap—the stringy-bark cockatoo.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Smile For Me!
Smile for me little cockatoo
Creamy feathers, so beautiful,
Look this way, cute cockatoo,
Let me take shot of you!
Monroe Louisiana
On the green, green farm
In green, green Monroe Louisiana
So green, green
Wet-luscious green and alive
So green after the rain
So bright green and clean
Just passing through
On my way to tomorrow
But so green today and yesterday
It was on that stranger's green, green farm
And I didn't stay long
And I didn't expect someone
To fire that shotgun right next to me
The barrel pointed out the front door
Into that green, green world beyond.
There were hot springs
On the green, green farm
In green, green Monroe Louisiana
Back in 1973.
poem by M.L. Squier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
We Are Part Of Nature
We are part of Nature to her we belong
Those who tell you otherwise they have got it wrong
The only God or Goddess I can claim to know
Lives in Nature and my wonder of her only grow.
As much as the sheep or the goat or the cow
Or the blackbird who pipes upon the leafy bough
Or the wildflowers that bloom on the banks of the stream
We are part of Nature or so it does seem.
We are part of Nature it does seem to me
Though some with my opinions may well not agree
To Nature we have to return to one day
And in her earthy bosom our remains will lay.
As much as the koala or wombat or roo
Or as much as the black or the white cockatoo
Or as much as the echidna or the emu
We are part of Nature that fact remains true.
The Goddess who feeds us why must i explain
That we are part of Nature must i say it again?
As much as the blossoms on the leafy tree
We are part of Nature you as well as me.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The C.F.A.
You ask old Meg McHenry about the C.F.A.
And without them she will tell you she'd be Homeless today
The trees and paddocks around her house left burnt and looking black
But they risked their lives to save her home and they beat the huge flames back.
The Country Fire Authority members their brave deeds worthy of recall
Men and women who risk their lives though their rewards may seem small
Stories of their courage in the gap of danger have been told far and wide
Without them facing the fire front far more homes would be destroyed.
The men and women of the C.F.A. fearless in their fight with fire
They are the unsung heroes and one only can admire
Them for their courage in times of danger death one mistake away
True stories of their fearlessness we hear of every day.
They often risk their lives and limbs for human lives and property
The brave volunteers of the C.F.A. and their services are free
And seventy years old Meg McHenry tells everyone she meet
That only for the fire fighting volunteers she would be on the street
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What Does The Donkey Bray About?
What does the donkey bray about?
What does the pig grunt through his snout?
What does the goose mean by a hiss?
Oh, Nurse, if you can tell me this,
I'll give you such a kiss.
The cockatoo calls ‘cockatoo,’
The magpie chatters ‘how d'ye do?’
The jackdaw bids me ‘go away,’
Cuckoo cries ‘cuckoo’ half the day:
What do the others say?
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Naturally Green
My mother always enjoyed
Picnics on lushes green grass
With trees to show
How green Mother Nature keeps
Her house of plants
Without green
There may be no greed
But it is that of the apple
That keeps us whole
Without care,
Green turns to brown.
With love,
Green grows strong.
When green turns to yellow
We go slow
So never let green
Turn red with envy
Or life may go
In a direction
You did not choose
poem by Scot Warren
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Green, Green, and More Green
There is green everywhere,
even in peoples' hair.Some
on hands, some on shirts.
There is green everywhere!
Green, green, and more green.
I think I'm going crazy over green.
If you don't wear green you get pinched,
then you'll start to itch.
So many people are obsessed with green.
Green Spring, green air.Green feet, green wheat, green meat.
Green isn't very neat!
poem by Autumn Howard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Poem of Spring
When the trees flower pink and white
filigree, and the sleeping
god comes back to life
here, where our mountains preside
so drably much of the year
now, when the walls of our valleys
are so green, green, green on all sides,
and our eyes see easy
before Nature gets carried away
and squeezes out too much Fire
and it all burns dead again,
you want to pin it
down with your pen
so it will never slip away,
this elixir,
this secret,
for there's nothing
I could ever seek
beyond this Spring
spreading inside me,
flooding my veins forever.
A Rejuvenation Of Nature!
Green, green plants have grown great everywhere!
Rain has irrigated all fields to green by its fall well;
All barren lands have turned into green forests cool;
What a change Nature brings about by its unique spell!
Despite deforestation rain has afforested soon ever;
Nature’s unique way of healing the wounds is fantastic!
Man destroys for material development all resources;
But Nature rejuvenates even dead fields to green pasture!
In the recent trip to South I saw the great wonder of Nature
Everywhere putting me in astonishment by its healing spell!
Helping hand of Nature for rejuvenation man shouldn’t neglect
And turn to the path of afforestation to save global disaster!
All polluting acts man should curtail for natural rejuvenation
To make this world a place of heaven and not hell forever!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Bird...
the cockatoo
plays basketball
and then
Laura (and that is her
name)
is fed with white
grains
she turns 360 degrees
and shoots the
green ball
to the ring
the people clap
and Laura flies away
again to the hands
of its feeder
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In The Prime Of September
The paddocks looking yellow where the capeweed does bloom
And bright golden flowers on the gorse and the broom
And the flute of the shrike thrush is pleasant to hear
In the prime of September in the Spring of the year
At this time of year the musical magpies they sing day and night
How pleasant to hear them piping in the moonlight
And blackbird by his voice you cannot get wrong
He welcomes the dawn of the day with a song
Frisky lambs in the paddocks are frolicking about
When the Goddess of Spring is in the Land of the south
The laughter of the kookaburra the call of the weerloo
The big dark brown bird better known as yellow tail black cockatoo
Fruit bearing trees in blossom and nesting birds sing
In the prime of September in the southern Spring.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Early Summer
’Tis the early summer season, when the skies are clear and blue;
When wide warm fields are glad with corn as green as ever grew,
And upland growths of wattles engolden all the view.
Oh! Is there conscious joyance in that heven so clearly blue?
And is it a felt happiness that thus comes beating through
Great nature’s mother heart, when the golden year is new?
When the woods are whitened over by the jolly cockatoo,
And swarm with birds as beautiful as ever gladdened through
The shining hours of time when the golden year was new?
poem by Charles Harpur
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Green, green and green
I want a holiday with a scene
Of green, green and green
A summer of green trees
A landscape of green grass
A view full of green vegetables
The colour green
Is a beauty that must be seen!
From a moving vehicles screen
And while we hold onto those machines
That deprives us of the colour green
Remember they provide us vaccines
As well as help the air to be clean
So for green, green and green
I will travel continents across and in-between
And also to any place that I have never been
I will make it routine
Just to see green, green and green
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Ballad of Cockatoo Dock
Of all the docks upon the blue
There was no dockyard, old or new,
To touch the dock at Cockatoo.
Of all the ministerial clan
There was no nicer, worthier man
Than Admiral O'Sullivan.
Of course, we mean E. W.
O'Sullivan, the hero who
Controlled the dock at Cockatoo.
To workmen he explained his views --
"You need not toil unless you choose,
Your only work is drawing screws."
And sometimes to their great surprise
When votes of censure filled the skies
He used to give them all a rise.
"What odds about a pound or two?"
Exclaimed the great E. W.
O'Sullivan at Cockatoo.
The dockyard superintendent, he
Was not at all what he should be --
He sneered at all this sympathy.
So when he gave a man the sack
O'Sullivan got on his track
And straightway went and fetched him back.
And with a sympathetic tear
He'd say, "How dare you interfere,
You most misguided engineer?
"Your sordid manners please amend --
No man can possibly offend
Who has a Member for a friend.
"With euchre, or a friendly rub,
And whisky, from the nearest 'pub',
We'll make the dockyard like a club.
"Heave ho, my hearties, play away,
We'll do no weary work today.
What odds -- the public has to pay!
"And if the public should complain
I'll go to Broken Hill by train
To watch McCarthy making rain."
And there, with nothing else to do
No doubt the great E. W.
Will straightway raise McCarthy's screw.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Rim Of Green
Green panties, green roses
green tits, green milk.
Green moon, posies in green.
green eyes, green full lips
green face, cheese, green..
Green around the rim,
green limes can but erupt...?
poem by Is It Poetry
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!