This poem was written one early morning observing a beautiful sunrise on an expansive outback farm in western N.S.W Australia. I sat on the verandah of the homestead i spent my early years growing up on.
Sunrise
There is a place called sunrise,
The red dust will dry your eyes,
This land is tough, ruthless and stout,
It has seen many a drought,
Only the strong will hear its song Triumphant and crowned,
With spoils and proud,
But all is not bad, bleak or dim,
This land has a way to start its day,
With a peace and tranquility,
Many would pay,
And with progression, of this fine start,
It continues to warm my heart,
This place is unique, genuine and real,
Even the darkest of soul could feel,
The warmth and joy of days gone by,
Is not vanished, departed or dry,
But fortified in the rock and stone,
This place I am at home.
