Welcome to the section of Silver Peers where we invite submissions from members and visitors for our Poetry Corner. We accept all forms of poetry - sonnets, daisy chains, haiku, free verse, bush poetry.....any type of poetry that you care to write - and the best shall be published in our forums.

Moderator: Mahalia

Post Reply
User avatar
Moderator (Bronze Member)
Posts: 2160
Joined: 30 Sep 2009, 20:53


Post by Mahalia »

HUNG ... Maureen Clifford © The #ScribblyBark Poet

So hang our farmers out to dry, and bugger you mate I'm OK ....
not good enough by half old chum, this isn't the Australian way
Our ANZAC forbears won't agree. This is not why they fought the fight
they fought for freedom, lives were lost, presuming we'd know wrong from right.

So hang our farmers out to dry, just leave them struggle on their own,
I mean to say, only a fool would try to farm on desert loam.
Good grazing land that's near the coast, is hidden now 'neath concrete pads.
and fancy houses, swimming pools, no thought to food at all. How mad.

Our farmers, seems are obsolete, our food it seems comes from the stores.
And fresh milk never will taste sweet when not home grown, our herbivores
all sent to slaughter, near all gone, sharing the fate of dinosaurs.
We've hung our farmers out to dry - clean food alas - we have no more.

Just hang our farmers out to dry, their day has passed, they're obsolete.
They're merely inconvenient bloodsuckers at our Government's feet.
They never get it right it seems, they plant their crops in time of drought,
and silly buggers whinge and moan whenever their water runs out.

Oh we are far smarter than they, we have no use for what they make.
All food can be made in a lab these days, OK it isn't Jake
but add enough sugar and salt and advertise it to extremes
and silly punters flock to buy it thinking it the food of dreams.

In years to come, if years we have still left upon our planet doomed
perhaps some scientist will see the elephant that's in the room.
And then with sage expression state - "Alas we got it wrong ." Too late!
We've hung our farmers out to dry, and they have gone. So sorry Mate.
The Scribbly Bark Poet
see some scribbles here -

Post Reply