WINGED CRIMSON.

    The tranquility of her wings

    The peace of her colours with

    her soft gentle eyes which see all,

    The pleasure of her song and soft chatterings,

    the beauty and grace of her nature......

    Fitting then is her name Juno, after the Goddess

    For truly she is a winged and glorious lady of the Sky.

    She graces our home with innocence and love

    Pretty lady, precious bird, thank you for the years,

    Each day is cherished with the sound of your singing

    For it reminds me that Nature's beauty will never die....

    Carried forever in her eternal soul of

    Wisdom and Understanding.

                  --------------------------------------------------  (Crenelle.)

                                                    OLD BOHRA.                                                                                                                                                                                                     

The sun rose hot that fateful day, the earth scorched before noon had passed

The hard burnt orange, brown and red and no-where a blade of green grass.

Onionweed revelled in the blistering heat, Quandong drooped weary head

Burnt gums looked tired old and sad as the word went out,"Old Bohra is dead!"

Mighty in his body and gentle in his ways........

Old Bohra had walked plains and gullies for aeons of days.

Ancient tribes of the bush say he bestowed on them their land

And 'tis said when the creeks first formed, Old Bohra fashioned the first grains of sand.

Magpie told his children way back when time began that greatly versed in knowledge

Old Bohra taught all about the land.

He showed Bush Folk how to live in harmony and not run to hide in fear

And even when Man came to settle he said there was plenty for all here.

But today as Crow called at my window and Galaghs flocked together as if in fright

I knew by the pull at my heart that something was not right!

So I followed Crow and watched Emus gathering on the sunburnt plains

And heard Old Bohra's family moaning on forlorn windgusts as if they were in great pain.

My dog Old Ben ran onwards tail between his legs and at the sadness in his eyes

There was no need for words to be said.

I found Old Bohra lying with his face turned towards the sun

His great Spirit had passed in preace and I thanked God I would not need to use my gun!

For his ancient age had done its work quickly, no suffering would he have seen

And as my tears flowed freely I knew he would eternally dream......

Of the land he had known and loved its colours moods and delights

The stillness and the quiet with a roof of sparkling stars at night.

And often now I wonder when I see young Joeys leap and bound

As they  grow in strenghth  and courage, if Old Bohra is still around.

Singing the ancient song, telling the story loud and clear

Its nice to know the 'young ones'

Will always be there to hear!

    -------------------  (Crenelle.)

Footnote: Quandong is a Native Peach of Australia which grows mainly in the arid parts of the continent. They are rather 'bitter' raw but dipped in a bit of honey can be eaten that way. However, the early white settlers found a way to 'sweeten them up' even more by making a 'jam' from the small fruits and adding lots of sugar or treacle.

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