Another Moral Dilemma! ... You've Been Warne ...d!

For We Are Aussies And We Care Raymond J Warren Brisbane Qld February 9th 2009 Did you see that fireball a’rolling, down the valley fair And the timber smoke a’rising, from the beauty that was there? Did you hear the bird’s loud calling, in fear as they flew, And house dogs barking loudly, at the fright that they felt too? Did you hear the wind loud roaring, like a jet plane overhead, Did you see the roadway littered with the dying and the dead? Did you hear the crackling bushland and see the volunteers fight, Did you watch the orange horizon in the darkness of the night? Can you hear the men hard yelling, as they run this way and that, Can you hear the horses screaming as they gallop on the flat? Do you hear the child calling as she stands now safe alone, “Where’s my daddy have you seen him, I want my daddy home!” Do you know that sinking feeling of the loss and loneliness, As you stand before your once proud home and feel the emptiness. Do you know that heartache, as you sift through ashes bare? Does a tear come to your reddened eyes, for memories stolen there? Can you hear the deathly cry go up, to meet the burnished sky, Of fathers with their children gone and a mother's mournful sigh. And those who search the empty roads, for loved ones, who don't come, The old and wise who blame themselves, for not telling them to run. But please don’t worry strongly, there is something you should know, We can’t bring back your loved ones, or the tokens for to show. But we can share your pain, for our shoulders we lay bare. So lay your head upon our breast, we are Aussies and we care. THE SILENCE OF TWO HUNDRED A Tribute to the victims of Black Saturday in Victoria February 2009 Raymond J Warren Lone bird flying o’er the land, not knowing whence or where, Her mate has gone midst flame and wind, that she could not share. Their nesting tree where was it now? It surely has not crumbled, Only blackened sticks below and the silence of two hundred. It seems like many years ago, when voices laughed and spoke, Before the heat, the fierce wind and that cloudy choking smoke. Where Goanna ran up trees of green and Koalas never numbered But all is quiet in the bush, with the silence of two hundred. Once they lived together all, in bush land so serene, When normal rain kept it there, growing evergreen. But then the savagery of drought, of bush too little lumbered And terror witnessed only by, the silence of two hundred The orange glow has gone now, the birds have gone to rest, A haze is on horizon and black silhouettes ride each crest. The air is still and cooling and the earth is ere encumbered, For nothing now will ever change, the silence of two hundred. Lone bird flying o’er the land not knowing whence or where Her mate is gone midst flame and wind, that she did not share. No more there will she nest again, for from the air she tumbled, To sleep upon the blackened ash, with the silence of two hundred. THE TERRIBLE SHADE OF THE OLD GHOST GUM TREE Raymond J Warren February 2009 She stood on that hillside for two hundred years, A Ghost Gum that saw life, it’s pleasures and fears. Now blackened and burned, no leaf is in place, All bush life has gone, burned away without trace. She saw it not coming, there was nothing to do, No warning was issued, till birds shrieked and flew. And then Hades arrived to claim Lucifer’s fee, In the terrible shade of the old Ghost Gum Tree. Yes she had seen many years slow come and go, Kangaroo and Koala that she’d come to know. Goanna and Magpie and Piping Shrike too, But now all were gone, there were not even few. The nestlings were burned and lay in her breast, Cockatoo and Galah and the one with pink crest. Only a Possum who had lived deep inside, Managed escape with a slightly burned hide. Now she waits for the winter, for the rains that will come, For her leaves that will spring forth to welcome the sun. But sad she resigns, to how things will be, In the terrible shade of the old Ghost Gum Tree.