Zondrae King Poetry

By Zondrae King

Inspiration comes in many forms. Sometimes it wakes me in the middle of the night, sometimes it springs from a picture or a sight I see or even the line of a song. My family are a treasure and the source of many ideas that end up in poems. The adventurous life that I have led, having lived in both the city and the bush, also gives me a wide range of experiences to draw on. I hope that readers find pleasure in shared experiences or from the stories and sentiments expressed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: May 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798369490686

Book preview

A BABY ON THE VERANDAH.

2014

I’ve asked myself this question before "now what do you think you would do

If you found a baby on the verandah?" When I was young, I thought I knew.

I would take it in and feed it and give it a bath and a nap.

I’d sing a little lullaby and nurse it on my lap.

Then later on or tomorrow I’d have to call the police.

And let them know I found it, or else I’d have no peace.

I know I’ll never understand how someone could do such a thing.

As to put a baby on a verandah and run at the doorbells ring.

I had three children of my own and if faced with that terrible choice,

Of giving one of them away I’d never find my peace.

To get up and say to one of them I’m leaving you to fate.

Which one to leave an impossible choice with my three at any rate.

My oldest is the wisest - she’s strong and fair and smart.

The middle one so beautiful - her face just melts my heart.

The youngest is a miracle - my son, my pride, my joy.

I prayed for years on bended knee for him my only boy.

Now they are grown and live their own lives away from their family home.

Their partners are great, couldn’t be better suited if I’d chosen them as my own.

So, if I found a baby on my verandah I’d love it for just one day.

Then do the right thing and advise the police and they’d come and take it away.

A NEW BEGINNING.

2012

The indigo blanket of night fills the sky

And peace washes over the land.

The eastern horizon has yet to grow pale

And night creatures make their last stand.

Then slowly, so slowly, the magpie awakes

And calls to her mate to arise.

While gently the breeze brings a jackass’s laugh

He too sends his song to the skies.

The angel of morning now draws back the drapes

And starts the first rays creeping in.

The sun’s golden fingers reach over the rim

The glories of morning begin.

It’s Spring and the wattle is heavy with gold

And nectar that bees will collect.

Across the whole land the same story is told

Both night and day earn our respect.

There, deep in a burrow the platypus curls

Her babies are safe and well fed.

While high in the treetops in some hollow log

A possum is going to bed.

Then pure golden warmth is poured over the earth

The day creatures rise from their bed.

We stretch and we yawn and we breathe in new life

As stars disappear overhead.

A BOY’S COOEE.

2015

Oh, you should have seen them Johnny as they started out that day.

Word had spread that they were going, calling coo-ee on the way.

All the young men from the district, all the ones to hear coo-ee.

Set to meet and march together, allies all, would then be free.

Oh, you should have seen it Johnny as they said goodbye to home.

Carrying their few possessions - maybe razor and a comb.

War to end all wars they told us. All we had to give was youth.

Giving willingly, now needed. Trusting we were told the truth.

Oh, you should have seen it Johnny in the towns along the way.

Young boys treated like the heroes they were sure to be, one day.

Me and Andrew rode beside them cause me Dad said that we could,

Just as long as we weren’t in the way, and I said that we’d be good.

Oh, you should have watched them Johnny, stood beside the road with me.

As those volunteers prepared to chance their lives across the sea.

I’m sure you would have loved the crowd, the slogans made to urge them on.

We sang the National Anthem every voice there sang along.

Oh, if you had been there Johnny as they reached the final town.

The Lord Mayor was there to meet them, with some others of renown.

There were doctors, teachers, farmers, men from every walk of life.

You’d have been among the thousands when the church bells came to life.

Oh, you should have seen it Johnny there were roses everywhere.

In great arches ’cross the highway. Girls put flowers in their hair.

And the crowd, just standing, waving. It was such a magic day.

As the country’s cream of youth had signed their name to go away.

Oh, you would have felt it Johnny, with the darkness came the gloom.

How the women watched and waited, and each home felt like a tomb.

They would keep the home fires burning in the towns and on the farms.

While their husbands, sons and fathers were in danger, bearing arms.

Oh, you should have seen it Johnny of the ones that went away.

Counting heads close to three hundred on that distant fateful day.

But the dead were buried elsewhere and the wrecks that now returned.

With dull eyes and empty shirt sleeves where once youth and courage burned.

Oh, you should have seen them, Johnny with their broken, weary tramp.

There was no building excitement as they lumbered down the ramp.

I wished that I was older so I could have joined up too.

But I see the horror etched there and thank God I stayed with you.

Oh, we might have joined them Johnny when the coo-ee passed our way.

But they wouldn’t take a blind man and at twelve I had no say.

In my dreams they are still marching every night the coo-ees ring

And we honour them by standing as we sing God Save the King.

A CALL TO ARMS.

2013

The list of all the fallen men was growing every day,

So, volunteers were needed to be trained and sent away.

Then from Gilgandra and the Castlereagh there came a shout,

A simple call, a bush coo-ee to all the towns about.

The Hitchen brothers were the ones to have this bright idea.

Coo-ee they called to all their neighbours, "come and join us here.

We’re off to fight with Kaiser Will and give our boys a hand.

Come on young men, stand proud and join to help defend our land."

Our Bill, the local plumber said, "It’s going to be tough.

We’ll walk to Sydney with our mates although the way is rough."

Beginning at Gilgandra, taking pledges on the way.

They passed through many western towns; their pace 10 miles a day.

At Wellington the cheers rang out and petals fluttered down,

A brass band played, and gifts were sent as welcome to the town.

Two scouts, Cob Hitchen and young Finch, although just twelve years old,

Took turns to ride a bicycle and followed with the fold.

The march came down through Dubbo, Geurie then to Wellington,

They called coo-ee to Mumbil – Echatena, marching on.

And as they travelled on the road the word would go ahead,

Coo-ee. Prepare a welcome and ensure these lads are fed.

Some cooks and farmers, stockmen too, a youth with beardless chin,

And businessmen from Orange, all and sundry, joining in.

To twenty-six who started each town added, roughly, ten.

They took great pride in giving up the best of their young men.

They had no sense of danger then. They never guessed

the hells they’d face, or slaughter happening in fields at Fromelles.

Bill Hunter had a letter, written by his mothers’ hand,

Two brothers at Gallipoli, had died on foreign sand.

From Orange then to Millthorpe, calling coo-ee Bathurst way.

To Lithgow, Mt Victoria, as each town had their day.

Katoomba, Lawson, Penrith too, their number swelled each night,

At last, to Parramatta now the end was in their sight.

And those who tramped that road, three hundred miles and twenty more,

Were welcomed by a hundred thousand, waving flags galore.

A lad named Leslie Greenleaf, was the youngest of them all.

The names of those who died are carved upon the Anzac wall.

Two hundred men, plus sixty-three, when full head count was made,

Were met by Billy Hughes, Prime Minister, in grand parade.

With petals cast beneath their feet and bowers overhead,

They marched below those fifty arcs of roses, all blood red.

Just four short months at Liverpool, their training was to be.

The ‘Star of England’ carried them to Egypt cross the sea.

They would be sent replacing wounded men, but they were keen,

To serve in our battalion forty-five also thirteen.

The volunteers’ example fostered more recruitment drives.

So valiant, they fought for us, and many gave their lives.

Of all those brave arrivals twenty-four had stayed behind,

And twenty more, though sacrificed, are never far from mind.

They gave their life to keep us free beneath our Aussie sun.

So, stop a while and contemplate the courage of each one.

They left their homes and families to fight across the sea,

So, let us stand in memory and call as one – COO-EE!

A CASSOWARY ENCOUNTER.

2012

Today I met a Cassowary,

You may think this quite contrary.

In leafy world, his type abounded,

I was alone, concrete surrounded.

Our meeting serendipity,

I looked at him, he looked at me.

It was, for both, a neat surprise,

When captured by each other’s eyes.

He walked in from his forest green,

To my concrete; a city scene.

He saw the fruit held in my grip,

And he was on a hunger trip.

Now I have heard of Cassowaries,

How their disposition varies.

How he could, with slash of claw,

Spill my innards to the floor.

His face coloured white, blue and red,

He wore a helmet on his head.

They say that animals smell fear,

And I was glad my car was near.

I jumped inside and watched his path,

And hoped there’d be no aftermath.

At last, he turned and went away,

Back to his bush where he would stay.

I’m glad I saw that mighty bird,

And now I think my fear absurd.

He seemed quite tame, and I am sure,

He’s had handouts somewhere before.

A GOLDEN DAWN.

2013

The countryside was brushed with gold

that early morn in June.

Not harsh or hard, like midday sun

that bakes the earth at noon.

But gentle as an infant’s breath,

asleep in mother’s arms.

A sheen was on the countryside,

on village homes and farms.

It was as if a cavalcade,

of imps or angels fair.

Had sprinkled golden stardust down,

that drifted on the air.

And settled on each gumleaf and

atop each head of grass,

until the scene in front of me

looked gilded under glass.

Some early morning creatures there,

were wandering about.

Some lambs disturbing morning dew,

with little legs so stout.

Went frolicking across the field,

their tails still wagged in place.

Then off they went adventuring,

One leading - others chase.

Then, right across the eastern sky

the sun rays slowly spread.

Free from horizon’s gravity

to rise above my head.

Then golden, glowing halos

formed in dewdrops on the lawn.

I sat and watched as morning bought

another golden dawn.

A LOVELY BUNCH.

2018

Oh, such a lovely bunch unfurled the folk to populate my world.

I can’t remember all of them but with some I have danced and twirled.

Those few who I can call to mind, maybe were not the flashy kind.

They taught me how to laugh and cry. I found our lives were intertwined.

I should have written it all down, yes, every face in every town.

The ones that taught us how to cope and even those who brought a frown.

An immigrant, a second