Personal Poetry From Anothers Point of View
By Myrna C McFall
Dawn at Apple Tree Flat The sun casts its radiant glow, like a halo over the mountain’s crest. Bursts forth in a fury of gold, as a warrior charging into darkness! Shadows are driven from their hiding place, to retreat at the light’s advance. All is aglow as day awakens with the warmth of heaven’s fires, upon night’s dampened earth. By Myrna McFall |
Hunter Valley Drought
What place is this so strange, so hard,
with sun so hot and wind so dry?
Grass baked to dust on earth’s cracked crust,
the rains have passed us by!
What place is this with rivers of sand,
with bones bleached white upon the land?
Tanks and bores in short supply and storage dams all going dry,
again the rain has passed us by!
What place is this where bush fires rage,
blackening each leaf and twig and blade?
Each day that passes is the same,
every thought a prayer for the coming of rain.
By Myrna McFall
Christmas In Jerry’s Plains
Christmas can be many things,
tinsel trees or fir boughs green.
Bush fires blazing through the night,
or snow laid deep with crystals bright.
A brand new toy, a grammar pie,
the band of carolers passing by.
Friends and family will be meeting,
joined in laughter, song and greeting.
But none of these are Christmas real,
tis love of all that we do feel.
Christ is born the King of Kings,
his gift of love to this earth brings.
Our prayers of joy and thanks this day,
that Jesus Christ has passed our way.
By Myrna McFall
