ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Drowning

© 2012 Glenny Palmer

What to do for the drowning man
when he turns from the rescue craft;
when he will not reach for the hand of Love
for the hand of Life
for the Lord above
and he’s sinking yet in the broiling strife
while he prays for a paper raft?

How to row to the fading shore
when the blistered hands can’t grasp
the splintered oars; while the splintered heart
and the mindless mind
tear the scene apart
in a frantic war where he’s left behind
and she floats --- on his final gasp?

Wow, Glenny.

Ta Mal & Marty. I always thought you gotta be a good whinger to be a good poet....so I must be a ripper poet!

Hey Matty boy. I hear you mate...troo. Just a bit puffed from bloody rowing!
Cheeers
Glenny

And an even bigger WOW from me Glenny!!
Sue

Thank you Sue. Isn't our poetry a bonza tool for just getting certain worries OUT of yourself?...albeit sometimes at the cost of the reader's equilibrium... (I sent this to my brother who replied...'That really cheered me up!'... I just wrote back 'Pearls at the feet of swine')....mmm, haven't heard from him since....
Cheeers
Glenny

Oh dear dear dear dear Glenny I suppose writing it out is to some extent cathartic. Someone said to me once, ( it might have been you ) Things start ,then you are in the process, but they come to an end.

I know where you're coming from Glenny. Chin up girl.

Big hugs...xxxx

Heather