End of winter

With still a week to go

Winter is the undisputed master

Of freezing nights, 

Opalescent morning fogs,

All followed by cold windy days

Rattling smoking chimneys

Around the ears of huddling humans .

Somehow Spring is on its way

For galahs fly in pair

Golden wattles fill the air

With abundant exuberance

Outrageous orchids display

Their waxy inflorescences

In their yearly exhibition .

Lucette C. Bailliet 

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Insomnia

Gingerly, pushing the heat pack

Sweeping the floor of the cavern 

Between the two bedsheets 

My leg extends itself another time

Then recoils quickly at the thought

Of meeting an undesirable crawling host,

Being either spider or scorpion.

It does not matter to my phobia 

Once awake, I can't even sleep any longer

Despite continuous  yawning

Aggravating my already severe insomnia 

Switching on the light

Reading seems the only solution

To carry me safely to the other side

Of this endless nightmare 

To the morning were the bottle brush

Will sweep gingerly and carefully

The inside cave of my boots. 

Lucette c. Bailliet

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Thank you for the Anthology

Feeling happy

It has arriveD

It made it  Down Under

I can rest now

The long days waiting

Are but a memory

Where to start ?

I know, it will be 

A poem as a treat

After a well spent day, 

Let's indulge with a mint tea

And cinnamon quince paste

That's the way to enjoy 

The Significant Anthology

Of course! 

T. B. E. S.

If in the morning

Showers are kept short

As rain has been scarce

You may be suffering from T.B.E.S.

If the generator is on

You'll get an expresso

Otherwise it's a percolated

You'll have to sip on ,

You may be suffering from T.B.E.S.

When outside you rush

To collect dead firewood 

As you wish to be warm inside

First build the fire properly

To bring it quickly to life,

You may be suffering from T.B.E.S.

Don't forget to brush

The inside of shoes and boots

As nasties can hide there

Waiting to bite or sting

Your unwary pinkies,

You may be suffering from T.B.E.S.

On the track keep it slow

To avoid the bouncing Roos

That are bound

To be around the corner, 

You may be suffering from T.B.E.S.

 Lucette C. Bailliet 

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The lodger

The dual-occupancy was short

Ten minutes it lasted at most

When required payment 

Became to painful to bear

Ejection was the solution

To a non consensual relationship

I wasn't putting up with it

Stung and limping

I  took off my boot

Shook it and slapped it

On the concrete slab

Until the undesirable host

Slid out and there it was

Slim, flat and elegant

A magnificent marbled scorpion

The cause of mayhem 

And a few hurried phone calls

To check Aussie scorpions toxicity level

Learning with relief

That none is deadly

An agreeable exception 

In the world of Aussie creepy-crawlies!

Lucette C. Bailliet 

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Lost

Lost

At the forest entrance

Leave the known bitumen road 

Turn into any dirt road 

To explore that primeval place

Up to the first sinuous dirt lane

Running in between the golden wattles

Morphing in a narrow dirt track

Avoiding deep pot holes

By that time you , you're  lost

Like the Roos and wallabies

You still go forward 

The night is falling

So is the petrol tank 

No reception on the mobile

Keep driving nonetheless 

The track is turning back 

Into a larger dirt road

You're on the way back

Hit the bitumen road with a happy sigh

Leaving behind you  the sign

"Thank you for your visit".

Lucette C. Bailliet

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Camellias

What is it about Camellias?

You either love them or don't.

If the truth is to be known 

La dame  aux camellias was right

After all she was knowledgeable 

In all love matters.

Take the flower itself:

Red you have pure passion

Pink passes as a blushing love

Not to speak about White

Which takes the shades

Of either the virginal religious calling

If not the one of the quintessential death.

Yes, Camellias answer to a woman's destiny.

Now take a single petal 

Look at it, don't tell me

It is a perfect love heart

Didn't I tell you 

The lady knew her stuff.

Lucette C. Bailliet 

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MIALLU

So it turns out

Miallu is our place

The name stands proudly 

On the gate 

Long has is taken 

To agree on it.

We feel that working 

So hard on the property 

We could claim it

It could live with our fused names.

Once chosen Black, white or gold? 

Was the question 

The middle one won the day.

A celebration is needed

With mulled wine or bubbly.

What we need now

Is to decide whether or not 

It will be followed

By lodge or park

Or do we bother?

The jury is still open

On this one.

Lucette C. Bailliet

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There's a vacancy

So Bronwyn Bishop has resigned

In the wake of her travel rorts

She's done well for herself

For she still fully entitled 

To her generous superannuation

After all she was the Speaker of the House.

Poor dear, she may have to repay

Some claims she inadvertently made

She did it for the country

It must be true if she says so

For sure she'll expect to be Dame

She deserves the Honour

After all those years in service!

There's a vacancy in the Parliament of Australia 

With travel entitlements under review

But excellent superannuation 

To apply contact the office of the Prime Minister.

Lucette C. Bailliet

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