Country Boys and Country Girls

Ripple Poetry

Image by June Perkins

A song lyric

Country boys and country girls
dream more than sugar cane.
Country boys and country girls
want more than endless rain.

They’re picking stars from skies above.
They’re catching pieces of the moonlight.
They’re running to the canopies
of light.

Country boys and country girls
often hide their pain
but they’re still holding
onto all their dreams
looking into the firelight
to find the global streams.

They’re picking stars from skies above
They’re catching pieces of the moonlight
They’re running to the canopies of light.

Country boys and country girls
often leave these towns
‘cause when the pickings done
there’s too few jobs around
and when a cyclone’s been
it’s even harder still
but now they’ve just got to
have a stronger will.

So they’re leaving behind the sugar cane
they’re saying goodbye
to endless rain
And they’re still looking
for the canopies of…

View original post 74 more words

Shoeful of Rain

From my Blog Vaults . . . A post about a Shoeful of Rain

Following the Crow Song

PIC00759.JPG Shoes and Blossoms – June Perkins

“A shoeful of rain. a heart full of friendship: imagining a world connected with strands of love.”

Above are some thoughts after meeting up with a friend at a cafe to talk about life, art, dreams – in our extremely busy schedules.

It was meant to be for one hour, but was two.

I never had sisters growing up, so friends who feel like sisters are very precious.

Going home I stepped in a puddle, but my heart was too happy to notice it much.

Life has been busy, working on a video for the kick starter, meeting up with friends, having friends not seen for over 14 years reconnect.

Stories wait to be edited, whilst one book is about (I sincerely) hope to be brought into the world.

And now a week after seeing my dear friend, who has such courage to follow…

View original post 27 more words

Word Rain

I found the opening phrase of this poem in an old notebook – but the lines after that are all new.  Some days editing and reshaping comes so easily.  A long hiatus makes cutting so much easier.     

I have days where rhyme is on my mind and that’s the time to attempt poems that require them.   I haven’t had one of those for a while, so I’m not going near rhyming forms in my poetry challenge, not yet.  

Word Rain is over on the ever rippling on Ripple Poetry Blog.

word rain
Word Rain – June Perkins

It’s hard work
sowing word seeds
that don’t want to grow
into story grain
but brace against it
waiting for rain’s inspiration.

Rain pitter patters
on the ground
sings out
the beginnings of stories
invites
the creation of metaphors.

But rain laughs
at its cliches
as couples take shelter
only to discover
they’re in love
& teases
as droughts end
& country folk run out to taste & dance

Rain brings floods,
sends people to the tops of rooves
into arks
with animals two by two

But when you smell
petrichor you understand &
find your unique story

Those memories
take you to a story place

There a man in a canoe crosses the  river
of what once was a road
& a smiling woman waits for him
in a blue raincoat.

You have found your beginning.

By June Perkins

Rain, I Write it, Live in it

flood 045
Rain – I write it, live in it, love it and sometimes fear it and want to escape.

Like it or not, it’s an inescapable part of North Queensland life.

Rain can flood, trap, enclose and invite pieces of writing from within.

Rain refreshes, reminds and reflects moods.

I taste the rain and all it touches when I walk through the rainforest.  I see the world in the drops that creep across a licuala leaf and plop onto my nose.

 ‘A little bit of rain’ plead some – knowing that in our area the rainy season can go on and on until you wish you could just take a boat, row out to beyond where there is no rain.

‘It’s not rainy season yet,’ my husband says, yet it whispers, some would say a little too loudly, to us that it is on the way.

Others long for the rain as it brings a green coat to our surroundings and helps the healing of the rain forest.  They know rain is a double edged sleet of weaponry that can both create and destroy.  They know that the builders who repair the houses, and the roads, post Yasi, race the rain.

I call on the metaphor of rain when I am missing bananas, friends, and need a day to spiritually centre.  I long for its damp cooling power that takes away the heat that burns.

tropical garden

Often before the rain it’s sticky beyond belief, making you just want to peel your skin off, if that were possible, but still your bones would feel the humidity.

I call on rain, when the world is dusty, dry and full of drought, but just enough – but you know – not too much or too little.  But rain is not an ingredient in life that I can control.  It is not part of a recipe where all weather mixes to please the people.

I banish rain, when it makes the paddocks a sea, and farmers come out to move cows and horses to higher ground, when it decides a crop will be drowned and swept into nothingness, and never make it to a supermarket shelf.  I wish it to the far ends of earth and wonder why it can’t make its way to a desert where it would be welcome.  Rain doesn’t have logic or a will like that.  I must be a fool to think it so.
floods

I banish rain, when it cuts off the roads, and means I can only facebook or telephone for sociability and wish I had gone to the supermarket and brought a few more supplies.

I banish rain, when it floods to the point where people are perched on the top of their houses, just wishing rain would flow away down the drains or helicopters would arrive to pick them up. This hasn’t happened to us yet, thankfully.

I banish rain, when it’s cut off the section of the road I want to drive down and I know I am not going to make it through the overflowing river, and must find a safe road to somewhere dry and restful until the rain passes its fury away.  This is why we now own a 4WD.

Rain – I observe it, remember it, live in it, and sometimes rejoice in it.  The rain can heal, green, and cause my heart to dance like Ginger and Fred in old black and white movies. I wish I could send the rain down south where the fires are.

When rain has been gone too long, and the world is parched and needs an elixir, and waterfalls are tiny trickles, then rain is welcome.  Rain is my friend.

I know then I am lucky to live in the land of rain.

Nature walkers
This post can also be found at ABC Open’s Like it Or Not, 500 Words.  

Head over there to read more about inspiring ways people have overcome obstacles.