Travelling vignette

Main Street

Millicent Sunday afternoon

Is empty of human presence

But open to seagulls

Filling the sky with their gawky cries

Against the slow revolving rotors 

Of the wind farm.

Mount Gambier pine forests

Man made from horizon to horizon

Define a dark paradise where

Black yellow tail Cockatoos 

Criss crossing the sky

Having adapted to the pine cones 

Find a generous and infinite food source 

Where the Black red tail Cockatoos have not.

Evolution key to adaptation.

We have to adapt to climate change

Or like the Black red tail cockatoos

We'll make it on the endangered species list.

Lucette C. Bailliet ©

A proustian kind of day

What a lovely happy mindless day

Full of nothings and laziness

The soft springlike light

Made it into an ethereal art 

Nothing to break its harmony 

Not even the stray cloud 

Offering a welcome break

To get a refreshing  drink. 

What a lovely happy mindless day

Soaking up the sun,

Reading a book,

Reminiscing a lot,

While time slowly passed away

Measured by the moving shadows

Against the walls of the sun drenched courtyard

With the cries of the children 

Back from school playing 

Merging with the bustle of the world 

Retreating gradually in the background 

Like waves leaving no trace 

On the wet sand at low tide,

What a lovely happy mindless day!

Lucette C. Bailliet ©

Topsy-turvy

I love you 

That's what you said

When we met that night

Our worlds collided

And imploded on impact

All came up topsy-turvy

On impact and imploded

Our worlds collided

That night when we met

What I said was

I love you!

Lucette C. Bailliet ©

Pastoral scene

Is this flat or is that flat enough for you?

Does the flatness never ends?

It spreads from horizon to horizon

Separating the world into green and yellow fields

Under a patchy grey rainy sky

Crossed by the heavy flight of pelicans

Madly flapping their wings one instant

Resting them the next

Light plays with clouds shadows

Over the silvery ribbons of the full drains

Dividing the paddocks filled with 

Their different stocks 

Of black Angus bulls or muddy sheep

Grazing the low winter grass 

Peaceful pastoral scene

Wouldn't you like to be a bird

To see such a patchwork from above?

Lucette C. Bailliet ©

  

My Austenian collection

Do I collect people as I do of books?

I positively answer your query 

You look surprised, 

I have my Austen people

As well as my Austen books

Please meet 

My Woodhouses, my Elliot's,

My Bertram's, my Frasers,

My Middletons , Brownes and Maddoxes

I had contact with a Bennett

Only last week 

I have not met any Wentworth yet

Nor Crawfords, but I don't despair

The Dashwoods are still missing

As well as Nicholls and the Gardiners

But the Davies, Smiths and Martins

Are all over the place.

And yes, I agree with you

It only amuses me

To show such an acquired snobbism 

On my part.

Lucette C. Bailliet © 

 

Bell ringer ditty

Like everyone else

I am endowed with family and neighbours

Both tribes I had no choice about

Let's not lift the veil of privacy

About my family

But the bane of my life is my neighbour

For he is a bell ringer

And if you thought it was bad enough

You should hear his conversation

About rounds and variations

To my bewildered consternation

As for me it always sounds 

The same everlasting commotion

Day after day all year long.

Lucette C. Bailliet ©

Along the highway

Its name is irrelevant,

The town sign 

Indicates a population

Below two thousand.

The welcome banner

Advocating the visitor

In its midst, to become

A responsible dog owner.

You follow the Main Street

And hit the Presbyterian church,

The Lutheran church not far

Is lurching invitingly at the next corner

Opposite the Church of Christ.

Further on the Pilgrim Lutheran church

Allures you in as well as the uniting church.

Steeples disseminated here and there 

Along the street are numerous, 

God's business is great business.

The town has disappeared

Beyond our memory

But for the divisiveness of its religions.

Lucette C. Bailliet ©

 

Red neck country

When silos by the railway train

 Become the main feature

On the landscape horizon

You know you are

In redneck country.

When you are served

A Nescafé for a long black

You know you are 

In redneck country.

When the heater in your room

Consist of an electric blanket

You know you're

In redneck country.

When the daily newspaper

Is the Sun herald 

You know you're in 

Redneck country.

 When you have a plastic doily

On the bedside table

You know you're 

In redneck country.

When the water is not  drinkable

You know you're in redneck country.

When the road signs

Are the most interesting touristic attraction

You know you're in redneck country.

When the cafes disappear

In favour of diners

You know you're in redneck country.

When the events at the information booth

Are dated three years ago if not ten,

And are told you still can use them

You know you're deep in redneck country.

Lucette C. Bailliet ©

From my blog:

echoingsteps.blogspot.com.au