Will it snow?

This week it has been several degrees below.
Frosts have come with days of glorious blue.
Give the children cheeks of a rosy hue,
But tell me, will it snow?

The grass is brown and has ceased to grow.
The buck still smells and the goats are still in heat.
The bull bellows, the cow he'd like to meet.
But tell me, will it snow?

And though he too, is now below,
They say "It always snowed on Arty's Birthday"
But that was in April and now its May.
So I'm asking them, will it snow?

It's the kids who really want to know
Snow means no bus and no school for the day
Snow balls and men and cold wet outdoor play.
They are wishing, for it to snow.

The weatherman seems to be one who knows
Forecasted snow to below five hundred metres.
We've got in extra wood to fill our heater.
So we're ready, if it snows.

Learning to play the Piano

Fingers are not supple, coordinated,
Or so easily contorted,
To match the vital positions,
Required to play each key.
Nor can they change from one chord shape,
To another with such ease.
Individual digits rise in unison with their neighbours,
When you would like them to stay in their place.
They can lag when doing runs of scales.
And make the pace of endeavor slower than your mind can endure.
But having said this,
The lovely tinkling sounds,
Of a piano played tunefully,
Soothe and calm the mind.
The beauty and emotion,
Conveyed in the chords,
Sublime.
These would not be appreciated,
By those more youthful.
It is these things that,
Keep you interested and even longing to practice.
When you are a more 'mature' student of the piano 

Sleeping on a Mountain Top

The climb was hard,
Leg numbing, chest burning, hard.
And all the more dangerous,
For being executed in moonlight.
Although like midnight, the top would inevitably arrive,
It was a most longed for object.
The promise of rest was all that guaranteed progress.
The stops became more frequent and the rocky inclines
More treacherous and steep.
At last it was achieved,
And among the rocks, on uneven ground,
The tent was erected.
Sweat soaked body became chilled,
And gratefully accepted the warmth of the sleeping bag.
Despite the chill and the rocky bedfellows,
Sleep was as unpolluted as the fresh crystal air of the clear night.
Unmolested by any discordant cacophony of thoughts.
Perhaps being physically closer to heaven,
Sets the mind above the incessant buzz. 

Climbing Mountains

Sometimes,
You feel the stronge urge to escape.
When a mountain top calls to your soul.
It is not a loud voice,
Yet you hear it,
Deep in the confines of your chest.
Your lungs crave cool, clean air.
Your nose, the scent of Eucalyptus.

The track winds upwards,
You are always looking ahead.
Up, up, up.
Your stride is brisk at first.
Fatigue soon drags at your limbs,
Your breath gets shorter,
Steps become more laboured.

Your will expectant, but flagging.
Eventually, the peak sneaks up,
Quietly.

Effort is rewarded.
Hear your pounding heart.
Feel the stress lift.
Aching legs and shoulders,
Give way to relaxation.
You are now above the hub-bub and strains of the everyday.

Literal

The aspies's dilemma,
Understanding and trusting,
The actual meaning of what people say.

Why is it that people cannot say,
What they mean?
Why honey coat?
Why Spin, spin, spin?
Why the half truths?
The body language gives it away.
The truth, the lies, the hazy grey space in between.

It is not that difficult.
Say what you mean,
EXACTLY WHAT YOU MEAN.
And mean what you say.

Burning the heaps

To save our assets,
During the devastating bushfires last year,
Bulldozers of every shape and size,
(Even an electric D7),
Converged on our small community,
And cleared fire breaks.
Constructed around the school, the hall and,
Dwellings large and small.
This process culminated in heaps.
Heaps of heaps.
Heaps of trees and shrubs and dirt and detritus.

Now a year on and we have mostly,
Come out relatively unscathed.

(Well not of course those few houses,
And the 285000 hectares of bush that burned.)

We are surrounded by regenerating forest,
Vibrant green,
On black and brown,
And the heaps.

But today.
We rejoice in coming through this ordeal.
As they light up THE HEAPS.
   

Cooking Dinner

It is not in the cooking,
It is the deciding what to cook.
There are considerations,
What vegetables are starting to fail the bend test.
What leftovers are cluttering the fridge.
The most challenging is the defrosting.
Microwave free, chops, steak, mince and sausages,
All need time to defrost.
Up to a whole day.
Then there is the issue of bread.
Has some been baked?
Is there a loaf hiding in the freezer?
Yoghourt too, requires a whole day to ferment.
Today the issue is eggs.
Approaching the Winter solstice.
Only super bantam is laying her daily egg.
Not enough for a batch of ham or Tofu, burgers.
A trip to town to buy twenty kilos of chook feed,
And one carton of free range eggs.