They Make Them Tough In Beech Forest
They make them tough in Beech Forest it has become a well known place
As the former home of Cliff Young the ageing man who won the great race
From Sydney all of the way to Melbourne some two decades ago
Even in death the great man's legend does seem to grow and grow.
Forty five kilometres south of Colac the nearest big country Town
And though Beech Forest has a small population 'tis a place that has won renown
For it's hardy breed of people who possess great pride of place
A pride and courage that Cliff Young displayed in his greatest ever race.
They make them tough in Beech Forest in the potato growing countryside
The achievements of Cliff Young their most famous athlete to them a source of pride
A stranger there made to feel welcome of which many do testify
Of their friendly and hospitable nature of them none can deny.
They make them tough in Beech Forest the once home of the great Cliff Young
For his Sydney to Melbourne ultra Marathon winning run
His praises have been sung
One of the hardy breed of men from that famous place south of old Colac Town
Who from Sydney all of the way to Melbourne jogged his way to renown.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Related quotes

Generations
You are like the stem
Of a young beech-tree,
Straight and swaying,
Breaking out in golden leaves.
Your walk is like the blowing of a beech-tree
On a hill.
Your voice is like leaves
Softly struck upon by a South wind.
Your shadow is no shadow, but a scattered sunshine;
And at night you pull the sky down to you
And hood yourself in stars.
But I am like a great oak under a cloudy sky,
Watching a stripling beech grow up at my feet.
poem by Amy Lowell

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God's Country
God’s country is a place between,
The two great seas.
God’s country is a forest,
Of evergreens and pines.
God’s country is a homeland,
Not tarnished by incredulity,
But shined by hospitality,
God’s country is a hunting ground,
And a young boy’s home.
God’s country is a masterpiece,
Of smelted man and nature,
And of pride, love, and sacrifice.
poem by Christian Allen

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Lisa Bellear
She was a marvellous woman and people like her are rare
The activist, poet and singer the great Lisa Bellear
Dead in her forty sixth year that seems so young to die
The reaper who claimed her life will claim the life of you and i.
In the aboriginal society of Melbourne her's was a well known name
And in greater Australia not a stranger to fame
A beautiful human being she had a heart of gold
The good die young true in her case she was not meant to grow old.
Gone from life but not forgotten yet none to take her place
With others she shared her gift of laughter and life she did embrace
The Melbourne indigenous community are in mourning the tears for her will flow
They have lost a friend and mentor one they did love and know.
I heard in the news this morning Lisa Bellear had died
An indigenous activist she was known far and wide
And may she rest in peace now back to Nature she has gone
But fond memories of the great one are destined to live on.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Feuilles D'Automne
Gather the leaves from the forest
And blow them over the world,
The wind of winter follows
The wind of autumn furled.
Only the beech tree cherishes
A leaf or two for ruth,
Their stems too tough for the tempest,
Like thoughts of love and of youth.
You may sit by the fire and ponder
While darkness veils the pane,
And fear that your memories are rushing away
In the wind and the rain.
But you'll find them in the quiet
When the clouds race with the moon,
Making the tender silver sound
Of a beech in the month of June.
For you cannot rob the memory
Of the leaves it loves the best;
The wind of time may harry them,
It rushes away with the rest.
poem by Duncan Campbell Scott

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An Alain
A place to live at cost;
This world has its price
Exploitation, bias and pride
Has condemned the humans thrice
The people or place love you may
But when you leave your own
They tell you right away
Your identity is gone
And they play with you with political tools
Your character you can not hide
The Policy makes people fool
And helps others to breed their pride
Ah! No one is civilized enough
To make it easy what is tough
They make it thorny all the more
To feel an alienness at the core
poem by Naeem Jakhar

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I have visited Australia several times, and I always try to make a point of going to Melbourne because it's almost my favorite city there, Melbourne and Sydney. But I shouldn't say that because I haven't been everywhere-and I'm very fond of Perth too!
quote by Jackie Collins

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I performed in Sydney some years ago for the Sydney Festival and I am just so pleased to be returning to the wonderful Sydney Opera House and also performing in Melbourne for the first time.
quote by Lesley Garrett

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We go no more to the Forest
WE go no more to the forest,
The rimus are all cut down.
They are built into roof and sill and wall,
Into floors that thrill to the last foot-fall
In the dancing of the town.
We go no more to the forest,
The kauris are all cut down.
They are built into ships so stout and strong,
Bearing their cargoes safe along,
Sailing from town to town.
We go no more to the forest,
The ratas are all cut down.
There are cornfields, golden and green and wide,
For the tangled depths where a world might hide,
And our lawns lie smooth in town.
We go no more to the forest:
Young, wild things are all cut down.
We are buying and selling and making love,
As the grown folk do, with a roof above,
And our hearts are at home in town.
poem by Mary Colborne-Veel

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Sameness They Only Embrace
The wealthiest person in the place far from financial renown
And the poorest one is very poor in the poor Country Town
Where everyone knows everyone your business not your own
And even family secrets by everyone else known.
This not a Town for migrants not many migrants live here
The locals do not embrace difference that's how it does appear
But of course there are exceptions though their type in the minority
Who speak out for the fair go in a place of cultural poverty.
Not a place of great commerce and few evolved thinkers live here
In the pubs they talk of work and football between spells of guzzling beer
They feel happy in their sameness it is difference they do fear
Though quite knowledgeable in football and their football heroes they revere.
A small rural Town in the country a few hours drive from anywhere
A place of a small population where many things in common they do share
The people with a fondness for sameness and sameness they only embrace
And if to them you have different interests amongst them you feel out of place.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Down South In South Australia
Down south in South Australia in old Port Adelaide
A place of Indigenous history where history has often been made
Home of renowned Australian Rules Footballers men who are known Worldwide
They wore the magpie colours with a certain sense of pride.
In the beautiful Port River the dolphins sport and play
In fancy I can see them in the sunlight of the day
From the pier at Port Adelaide one them often does see
Marvellous memories of such beauty keep on coming back to me.
Those grand old Towns of South Australia by the far southern shore
Port Adelaide and West Lakes, Largs Bay and Semaphore
Fond memories of such beauty one always does retain
And in my flights of fancy I visit there again.
One can only imagine in the warm sunshine and breeze
The very first Australians had their corroborees
Long before the coming of the Europeans many centuries ago
Though little of their history or their ways we do know.
Down south in South Australia in old Port Adelaide
Of there I have great memories and great memories never fade
Of an old place that's full of history and the friendly people who live there
It's famous Football Club and renowned Australian Rules Players are well known everywhere.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Mindanao: The land of the Free
even the star blinks to see the island with
a doming dust blew from the pacific
ocean, and the whiten cumulus clouds
showered the scatter archipelagoes
of Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao
white beaches floored the virgin
inlets of cliff, driven along the sea coast
with the white Celica and golden pebbles
rust along the dunes of sand in a
formation of kaleidoscopic design by
its natural nature poise
home of the its largest forest, birth place of
the famous monkey eating eagle, hibernation
lair of the world venomous snake of the
world, inhabitant of great ethno linguistic
people of the past and the land of promise
of the mai of the pre-historic period
never conquer in the past, struggle in the
present and the winner of the future, the
archipelago that emerges the backdoor of
history of the Philippine republic, the
source of the spirit of freedom enthusiast
amongst Filipino of today's quest
as the nature comes to convey, the dwelling
place of harmony, its flower grow and the
the birds fly in a zooming speed to know the
blowing wind in the island of Mindanao
come and live the ambiance of the birth of the
people who live the dignity of its destiny, the
faith that hold on, the hope that build to pursue
and the aspiration to live for a wonderful
Mindanao as a Nation
poem by Antonio Liao

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What Does It Take To Be A Leader
What does it take to be a leader you ask someone other than me
For in most in positions of power a hunger for power I do see
I speak in the tongue of a cynic yet would it not be fair to say
That one only becomes the Leader of a Country by being ambitious in a big way
Those who do need power in a big way are only out for their own fame
The Presidents never become Presidents without wishing for to make for themselves a name
Perhaps it is all about ego this great human lust for renown
A rare breed indeed quiet achievers though a few do live in every town
One never becomes Prime Minister or President of A Country without for the top job having the need
For surely one never does become a leader without desperately wanting to lead
'Tis tough at the top some will tell you but those at the top at the top fight to stay
The lust for power and success at it's greatest in the competitive Human World of today
So many look up to their leaders and the praises of their leaders do sing
But many with power do crave more power for power can be an addictive thing.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Sydney my Love
Sydney my love, Sydney my city.
Pretty pretty place,
Plenty- plenty beauty.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city.
First rays of sun –
Spread here fun,
Splendour and majesty,
Nothing so beauty.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city.
Tidy beaches, green green trees,
Heavenly blowing cool cool breeze,
Kissing the shore waves sporty.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city.
Fort Dension, port Jackson,
Kings Cross, Opera attraction,
Harbour bridge, Bondi beach,
Place to find calm & peace,
Sydney is our identity.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city.
Kangaroo, emu, blue mountain,
Adventure, romance, 4x, fun.
Flora fauna, folk, fidelity.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city.
poem by S.D. Tiwari

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Sonnet: All Things on Earth Have a Natural Place
Each thing on earth must be, where it should be;
Ectopic makes it weird and dangerous;
A lion ought to be in forest free!
It cannot do whatev’r a house-cat does!
A cage is not the place for bird or beast;
A cell is not the home for any man;
One’s freedom should not be curbed in the least;
An animal that’s caged has less life-span!
A garden-rose must grow in gardens good;
It should not stand amidst the grasses wild;
The forest is the place for cedar-wood;
A garbage-dump is cruel for a child!
The place aright for family is house;
The place ideal is home for any spouse!
poem by John Celes

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Warrnambool City
In the coastal City known as Warrnambool
In the Winter you can swim in the heated swimming pool
And in Summer there's surfing and swimming and other good fun
As well as sunbathing in the lamp of the sun
Some beautiful beaches by the big coastal Town
But it is not for such Warrnambool knows of renown
But for it's friendly people on every street
Happy and smiling faces you are bound to meet
The population of Warrnambool in numbers has grown
And as a multicultural Rural City it is now well known
The Capital of south west Victoria Warrnambool by the sea
A welcoming Town for many a refugee
In it's parks and beaches Nature's beauty to behold
In a great City to live in for the young and the old.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Jack Davis
A mentor to his race and the pride of his tribe
Jack Davis the poet and Indigenous scribe
The ex stockman from Yarloop in his lifetime knew fame
And in Australian literature his lives as a legendary name
An honourable man as well as a very fine poet
Jack Davis was one who is worthy of note
To natural genius his poems testify
And greatness of him none could ever deny
He passed on in his early eighties some eight years ago
And his legend in death only does seem to grow
Honoured in Australia his and his people's Homeland
The Nature of his Country he did understand
A credit to Australia and his Indigenous Race
In his Country's literature he commands a high place.
poem by Francis Duggan

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If the weather is good I go into the nearby wood - there I am painting a small beech forest (in the sun) with a few conifers mixed in. This takes until 8 'o clock.
quote by Gustav Klimt

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Two To The Power Of Love
(duet with cliff richards)
Janet: I know we just met, but I feel like Ive known you before
Cliff: but something about you my heart has been searching
Janet: I dont understand it, its over my head
Cliff: so dont try to solve it, just feel it instead. ooh
Chorus:
It isnt really such a mystery
Anyway you add it up it turns out to be
Attraction automatic, a simple mathematics
Two to the power of love
Janet: I look in your eyes and everything falls into place
Cliff: you dont have to say it, its written all over your face
Janet: by my calculation, Im falling for you
Cliff: its a perfect equation
Janet and cliff: and I know that its true
Repeat chorus
Janet and cliff:
Its complicated, but its easy to see
A combination that was meant to be
Its something you can count on
Repeat chorus
It isnt really just a shot in the dark
Somebody mustve worked it out on the chart
Attraction automatic, a simple mathematics
Two to the power of love
song performed by by Janet Jackson

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry: Ode to Eagle
Ode to Eagle
By Laijon Liu 20091010
-O1-
Who are you, my love, soaring so high!
The god of all birds, a king of azure sky
On the precipitous cliff you make home
Off the lofty peak you leap a great dive
You call up the morning sun to ascend
And escort the moon where she roams
Earth revolves under your mighty talons
And heaven is for your wings to mete
-O2-
A pair firm claws, steel dagger sharp
Where your enemies find no escape
Above the vast land or the roaring sea
All livings are under your decree
Your eyes are made of pure gold
To see through the hour of dark night
Who dares to stare at the glorious sun?
And catch the true splendor of light!
-O3-
Upon the high rock you pick your nest
Above the deep sea you set window-view
And facing the cold winds you make love
There you raise young, hatch a brave heart
All worlds look up and envy your spot
But they never know how much you sacrifice
Your title and fame must cost so much
Upon that rocky cliff, in the gushing winds
-O4-
Lonesome and pride is the way of your life
It’s against your deity to group with a flock
No one dares to dictate your hour of flight
And no peak or valley is out of your reach
Toward the sun you stare and rise head on
And into the wintry wave you make a splash
White clouds are for your wings to smash
Rain and snow are your showers and bath
-O5-
Nature has preordained your tragic fate
Struggling since birth, fighting to become
Where your infant bed is a wrestling court
And then your test flight is a deadly dive
Yet you raise your hooked beak proudly
Stretch your broad wings measuring winds
Hop your muscular legs for a great leap
To aim the sun and answer the storm
-O6-
How calm you are, driving the winds above
Rise and fall freely, soar and turn with ease
Where in the sky you find dragon is a myth
And shadow of phoenix disappeared in sun
The idols on earth all become fairytale news
Only your wings and spirit are true examples
Death and fear can never conquer you in life
Dream and desires are all possible to reach
-O7-
Oh my great Bird, a miracle you pursue!
You’re hatched on cliff and born of storm
Sun above you and earth down below
Sky your lodge and death is like a home
In the gushing winds you howl battle cry
Into the cold waves you toy snowflake
Through the challenges you grow strong
And in turmoil and crisis you obtain peace
-O8-
Who is the maker of your striking shape?
Who gifted you a pair golden pupil
For the far vision and detail view?
Who gave you a pair brave wings
To set your faith fly and courage to dive?
Who made your nest on high cliff?
Who drove the winds and storms
And the red sun over the blue sea?
***Who made you, so great? ***
poem by Laijon Liu

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He Often Thinks Of Rosie
He often thinks of Rosie where might she be today?
Is she still back home in Derry from here long miles away
For three years they were an item but for them things did not work out
As often can happen in love affairs between one from a Northern Land and one from a Land in the far South.
He did not wish to live over there and in Melbourne she would not stay
Nostalgia won out over love or so 'twould seem that way
She went back home to Derry though he had asked her to become his wife
Young Rosie she was homesick a natural thing in life.
His wife and he have parted ways they have a year old son
The love died in their marriage he is not the first or he won't be the last one
To know of marriage failure such is life I do suppose
Yet his greatest love will always be the lovely brown haired Derry Rose.
He often thinks of Rosie they parted ways six years ago
He loved her and he always will though apart they did grow
Nostalgia won out over love in their case anyway
She went back home to Derry and home in Melbourne he did stay.
poem by Francis Duggan

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