I never thought the Kimberley would attract me to its land,
it was the quest of understanding, to discover who I am.
Adventurers still explore, as their songs aim to glorify,
but all the while, the weak still draw tears from in my eye.
We trek mountain ranges, where summits touch the stars,
I never thought I would feel, quite like an alien from Mars.
In the pub that night, was a Fisherman boasting of his catch,
How his prize Barramundi, from a Croc’s jaw he snatched.
Kimberley has a mind of her own, so beware what you boast,
for if you dare tred a risky path, it could be your final roast.
A whisper spread, a boy was taken by an angry Croc that day,
it seemed the boasting Fisherman, had nothing more to say.
Worlds recklessly converging, by rule of white fella decree,
old culture frets away, as a young life’s soul drifts out to sea.
As I ponder in this spring-fed pond, with my waterfall on tap,
I begin to realise why this place should never be on the map.
What makes the Kimberley spirit more than legendary tough?
Is it survival of the fittest, or counting who has had enough?
It’s not a sunrise bold and stunning, that makes me sit in awe,
but a sunset drenched in cane-grass smoke, born of local law.
As this day withdraws, thoughts engage with ancestral lights,
until I am reminded of these beastly bugs and Midgy bites.
By combining Poetry into a photograph you get POETPICS or PHOTOPOETRY.
A phrase of philosophy integrated into a photograph = PHILOETRY
Donate to the Smith family appeal via the link or buy an A4 / A3 size Glossy ‘Poetpic’
Search for my auto signature © James Irvine (hidden within Poetry Photographs)
See how this and other poems play a part in the Story 'Finding Harvey’, crafting another dimension of creative writing = 3D-Poetry.