Soft Brown Feet

[Glenny Palmer]

ONE OF CROC'S BEAUTIFUL (& VERY CLEVER) POEMS FOR YOU TO ENJOY


Soft brown feet. ©…croc Jan 2012

In ancient times, small soft brown feet trod on a country’s floor
in places where no other foot had trod;
and soft brown feet lived simple lives with nature, and their lore.
… but ships, with ‘all unfurled for speed’, were bound from foreign shore;
the captain’s orders, from the queen, “You take land in my name
and do whatever’s needed now, for you there’ll be no blame;
farewell sir, travel in the hand of God”.

…and so they travelled. Soft brown feet, knew nothing of their ‘game’
of shoot a threat, and plant a flag, and say;
“I, in the name of good Queen Vic, take all this land by claim
and we shall settle here good folk, in God Almighty’s name”.
Job done, land taken. Soft brown feet heard, ‘musket, fife, and drum’
and many soft brown feet lay dead beneath some grieving gum;
while those who lived heard “…onward with the fray,

…more ships, we need more labour now to build this land that’s free,
with toil and sweat we’ll make the future bright;
for all this land I take for you has Queen Vic’s sole decree,
and we as one will tame the land by chain and by degree.
Let nothing stand within your way, take all for God and crown,
and pave the way you pioneers, take nothing lying down;
to all who hold the sway, ‘pre-emptive right’”.

But soft brown feet had never known the ‘sway’ of any kind,
‘pre-emptive right’ to soft brown feet was life;
against their rights, those soft brown feet were taken and confined
by ‘ships with all unfurled for speed’ and paperwork unsigned.
Then… reservations allocated, rights to roam impeached
and soft brown feet had every human right decreed now breached;
then made to dance the tunes of drum and fife.

… and no-one ever learned a thing about those soft brown feet
and no-one gave a jot… for no-one cared.
And no-one ever taught them much… that’s ignorance complete;
but ‘well to do’ sit back and scoff, and drown in self deceit.
And now, nomadic soft brown feet roam through the city’s push
a long long way away from home and brown feet in the bush;
…yet further from this life ---so unprepared.

...and are they made an equal now to ‘ships with sails unfurled’?
or is it that they’re still the ‘underdog’;
when will they be an equal in this life to which they’re hurled
and still be free to live their culture in their spirit world?
To live the life, have equal rights, to ‘ships’ that came and took
the land where soft brown feet had life that read like open book;
…or will they live, forever, in the fog.

©…croc

[David Campbell]

And enjoy it I did...a powerful message. Many thanks, Glenny.

Cheers
David

[Glenny Palmer]

Thank you David.(I think it was one of his best.)

[Shelley Hansen]

Oh, wow, Glenny, me too!

That's one of those poems which, after reading, you need to stop and sit awhile ... and just let it sink in.

Thanks so much for sharing it on the Forum.

Cheers
Shelley

[Glenny Palmer]

Glad you enjoyed it Shelley.

[thestoryteller]

Sadly it appears mankind hasn't learn a lot from history Glenny.

Always enjoyed having a banter with Croc.

I wrote a song a while back called "A Love to Own the Land".

About a bloke whose land, passed down from his grandfather, is taken from him to build a dam,
but goes back to how his grandfather took it from the people with soft brown feet and how they took it
from other people with soft brown feet.

All for a love to own the land.

Have a great day mate.


Merv.