bushballadeer

Basically I'm a storyteller and share the culture of my country through Bush Poetry, Ballads and Yarns.

Some of my poetry below.

WHAT DO I TELL MY CHILDREN?

If you've lived in outback Queensland just as I have,
you must've faced at times the scourge of drought.
You'd have watched the senseless dying of your livestock
and felt completely drained and numb no doubt.
Did you ponder on why life can bring such sorrow,
when other times you’re dealt a joyful hand?
Though the bitterest of blows is when the children
express, "Dear Daddy, we don't understand."

How I hate to see the hurt upon their faces,
but more so when they give your hand a squeeze.
And the question that forever haunts my thinking,
"What do I tell my children? Tell me, please!"

Then one balmy morn way back there in September,
my children settled down upon the floor,
as they planned to watch Play School on television,
but little did we know what was in store.
How they sat perplexed at seeing the explosions
of buildings there upon the tele screen
and the aftermath then left the children reeling -
left wond'ring at the images they'd seen.

Though I sensed the children's minds took on the notion,
that things they viewed were happening overseas,
how that question still forever haunts my thinking,
"What do I tell my children? Tell me, please!"

Hosts of men, who searched the mountainous piles of rubble,
live vividly within each young child's mind,
plus the endless walls of pictures of lost loved ones,
placed there by anxious folk now left behind.
In their classrooms children talk about the horror
and can man stop the threat of war somehow?
Though our home is miles away from New York City,
our children know that life is altered now.

As my children leave the light on in their bedrooms,
lock windows which exclude a nightly breeze,
yes, that question still forever haunts my thinking,
"What do I tell my children? Tell me, please!"

We had planned to fly the children to their grandma’s,
who lives just north of Brisbane on the coast,
but the thought of going on a 'plane is not on,
as flying is the thing they fear the most.
So as parents we have organised this summer,
a camping trip with some of their close friends,
but I fear the world will never be the same place,
though live in hope the terrorism ends.

All I wish is for my children to be happy,
that innocent young minds can be at ease.
Though that question still forever haunts my thinking,
"What do I tell my children? Tell me, please!"


©Bush Poet and Balladeer
Merv Webster


September 11th will forever be a dark day in the history of mankind, as it affected people of all ages around the world, including outback Queensland. The above poem received a highly commended award at the Blackened Billy written competition at the Tamworth Country Music Festival in 2002 and 3rd place at the Australian Bush Poetry Championships in the written section for serious verse.


Song Lyrics recorded by Brooks and Magee.

HARD-HAT HEROES

There's a breed of Aussie hero who has served this nation well
and they don a yellow uniform to face the fires of hell.
When day temperatures are soaring and the high winds blow a gust,
and our bushland is ignited it's in them we place our trust.
Yes, you're all somebody's daughter and you're all somebody's son,
you are mothers and you’re fathers: hard-hat heroes everyone.

When their mates are in the hot seat and they need a helping hand,
they will volunteer their services from stations 'cross this land.
Whether country towns or cities or a bush fire brigade,
they will gladly throw their hats in and will offer their mates aide.
Yes, you're all somebody's daughter and you're all somebody's son,
you are mothers and you’re fathers: hard-hat heroes everyone.

Do you owe your home or property, your very lives perhaps,
to the selfless, honest efforts of these bold fire-fighting chaps?
Or still sadly you lost everything, but proudly can attest
to their fierce determination as each brave soul did their best.
Yes, you're all somebody's daughter and you're all somebody's son,
you are mothers and you’re fathers: hard-hat heroes everyone.

So I ask you all to join me as we stand and raise a glass
to the courage and the spirit of this fire-fighting class.
And I'm sure you'd love to join me as this message we impart,
"You're such true blue hard hat heroes and we thank you from the heart."
Yes, you're all somebody's daughter and you're all somebody's son,
you are mothers and you’re fathers: hard-hat heroes everyone.

©Bush Poet and Balladeer
Merv Webster


Dedicated to all the fire-fighters who, on so many occasions, have risked their lives to fight the devastating bush fires, which have ravaged so many peoples’ lives by causing loss of property and life.