Country

                

A windsock points a fleshy finger

As slow-coming coffee sips 

Beside a fast-moving river

Happy fruit trees burst

With smiley-faced lemons

Hedges toe the line,

Big trees stand a chillin'

Velvet green fields

Fling far and wide

Horizontal bars for fencing

Laid-back inmates inside

A brown boy sits on a

Black dog smiling

A man of stone looks on

Stooped for the shearing

Black, brown, cream-curdled,
Patch-worked cows

Crowd a backstage wing

Awaiting the fur-fashion show to begin


Two cows sit kissing, preparing for rain
Beside a barn bent over,            

An aluminium igloo, supervising the hay

A crunchy Cornflake carpet,

Left-over leaves do make

No vacancy here 

For suburban suckers/blowers to rake

A burnt-out house stands high on a hill

1800s stylised still

Glamorous glassless windows cast

A dark and sensuous invitation to the past

In town a purple roadside house

Upholds a ubiquitous billboard brand

A young faded female sucks

A Cock bottle in her hand

White-backed, black-faced-and-footed sheep    

Have a bob and a baa each way

Beside stacked mint marshmallow bales

Packed tight with the sweet summer hay

Cast off, road-worn, licorice tyres

Smother a white-plastic mound

Black Fruit Loops in morning milk

For the cows to ponder and to frown.

Now grand fern-filled gorges rise       

Stern and steep either side

Nature's high-minded untouchables,

A thin grey arm daring to reach deep inside.

Four clean white crosses upright

On a sharp bend stand

Felled in one fast and furious turn,

Jesus stamps his weary brand.

Our Learner meek and tortoise-like

Keeps steady to the signs

Impatience rides behind on a bike - overtakes

In burka-black, brakes, unblinking, blind.