A while ago I spent some time
In Queensland, with a friend of mine
She lived just minutes from the coast
Her house, more elegant than most,
Was reached by a steep flight of stairs
As flooding frequently occurs,
With broad verandah round each side
And splendid views of countryside.
Mosquitoes, which thrive in the wet,
When every bed is draped with net
Can make living here a trial
But in times of drought they run a mile.
At Christmas time, the air is dry
Above us permanent blue sky
But roads are dusty in the heat
And humidity makes it hard to sleep.
My friend is now acclimatized
And so it comes as no surprise
To learn she rarely makes the trip
To England now; Australia's «it»!
In some ways I can understand
The lure of this attractive land
With open spaces and pure air;
She feels at peace – her home is here.
I sip a drink, admire the view
Birds, bright coloured, fly on through
The wooden rafters to the trees
Their calls get lost upon the breeze...
But stress is different here, I find
The elements can be unkind,
Monsoon storms can lash the coast
Australia is a wild host!
(c) Poet in the woods 2014