Luck, the Friend

My report is due, my director awaits my reply,

as I sit by the river, pen in hand,

thinking of the intricacies of life.

An old hand casts his lure into the

Noosa River trying his luck once more,

for his spot is not a special one,

the pier where hire boats bump,

people wanting to come ashore

for more beer, more laughter.

Why does he try his luck at this place

where fish are never caught?

Why ask luck for the impossible unlikely

and stretch a friendship that has seen many years?

Loud inebriation disturbs his peace

as chips and beer are loaded.

One more bump before they leave

trailing laughter in their wake.

My director still awaits me,

I feel my luck stretching.

Better to keep an easy going

friendship with luck and ask

for more when luck is likely to listen.

Smile at the rain.

Summer rain falls from dark and heavy clouds

wetting every surface and bouncing off every head

leaving no doubt to the start of the wet season.

Large puddles turn into large pools

as water dams in basins and culverts

waiting to breach the edge of its confine

and flood into a weary neighbourhood.

Children play under the large drops

revelling in the coolness that clouds

and their precipitous face brings

to the heat of a tropical summer.

I walk out into the storm, arms out straight,

looking up toward the blackened sky

with eyes half closed to the deluge

and mouth open to catch its essence.

I am revitalised by the raw energy

pouring from the skies, the child in me

wanting to play, the adult in me knowing

that I will be dry soon after in the heat that follows.

But the rain has not stopped and rivers breach their banks

eager to eat up their surroundings,

washing over streets and roads, filling back yards,

not bothering to knock before entering your home.

More rain has fallen in angry flashes

and roads turn into rivers swallowing cars and houses

carving up towns and bursting through shop fronts,

carrying unwanted guests as bull sharks go window shopping.

But rain, rivers, floods and sharks are no match

for the determination that a Queenslander holds fast.

They rebuild with signs advertising indoor pools

and look forward to more days in a beautiful country.

Once again, lifting their arms out straight

with a half smile to the rain that falls.

Sleep In

There’s a tickly monster in our bed,

its tickling my feet with small fingers.

Giggles emanate from beneath our big blankeys,

they have come alive making shapes and noises.

Meanwhile Luke Skywalker

jumps into view his light sabre

whooshing the air at 5.30 on Sunday morning.

An Invitation To Stay

He stands at the door, takes a last look back at the empty house.

Four years have seen a daughter born there and her

brother grow into a tenacious and strong five year old.

Only four years, but so many memories to take

with all the furniture and CD’s.

Memories will stay and some will fade

like the patina of their kitchen table.

The cracked window pane brings a smile remembering

the stone flying from underneath the mower and nearly

taking the father-in-law with it. Let the buyers replace it.

He has replaced, repaired and sweated over too many things,

most of which have not put a penny on the place,

houses are sometimes not homes,

they are money without the emotional attachment.

But he’s still attached to this place with its

unapproved decks and under height downstairs rooms.

It has a charm that vibrates with him,

makes the days bright and the nights comfortable.

He remembers baptising the children

and barbequing for thirty people with a big cigar stuck

in his mouth, John Aloisi scoring the penalty

and running out on to the deck to a quiet street.

The money spent on the place was worth it.

He can feel the house saying goodbye.

It has stood for forty years and hosted many people

in this transient society. It knows so many secrets,

has heard conversations that should not be repeated,

seen the happiest moments lived by happy people

and also been saddened. Its walls absorb it all

and reflect that energy back to all who enter.

It is a happy house, because of the people it has

invited to stay.

Every owner is only a tenant.

Some of whom it has been reluctant to let leave.

The home takes them into its bosom giving comfort

and joy and nursing them through harder times.

It does not refuse ownership to anyone, just vibrates

loud enough so that a good match is made by those

who feel its unique energy and are made happy by it.

Those that bring happiness to its walls in

special ways will find it hard to sell,

the home does not want them to leave.

A sigh comes from deep within as he says goodbye to a friend.

A reluctant parting but one that will bring newer

and exciting pastures. He closes the door, locking it

for the last time. He has been invited to stay in another town

by another home that will take his family into its heart.