Views in Verse on the one great single class society
Joe Hockey has long been lauded as a key contender for leadership of the Australian Liberal Party given he has appeared in the past 'electable' in the eyes of the Australian public. Son of a migrant - common appeal - easy going style - no pretension to grandeur.
Now he gets the Treasurer's job: fails to sell his first budget, can't legislate it, unable to collaborate on it, no alternative floated and yet ...amongst all of this he is 'writing a book'. And then ...despite the carnage around him he ...goes ahead and formally launches the book. So in the space of a few weeks he has gone from being Joe, everyone's mate, to Joe the Treasurer given to 'hubris' (something Australian voters will not tolerate!).
In this same space of time, Julie Bishop - another of Abbott's senior ministers, formerly a twenty year practising lawyer, and probably not seen as warm to the electorate because of her stern demeanour; in the meantime. she simply gets on with her Foreign Affairs role.
The first major challenge she has in her role, the loss of 28 Australians over the Ukraine. Julie Bishop simply goes out and successfully takes on Vladimir Putin. In doing so, represents to the world how we as Australians like to be seen to support each other. No need to promote herself. She just went out and did her job as best she could. Australians love to see their representatives 'doing the hard-yards' as they do themselves in their own work every day.
We see ourselves as a single class society working together as one - there is no room for 'hubris' in getting things done - chest beating doesn't pay - all uphill from here Joe!
Good luck! Get some new advisers!
The Rose, the Sun and the Sea
She was the kindest of woman
her beauty long lost to the sun
She came to this port as a stranger
for the love of "a wayward one"
Most thought:
"he'd since died a sailor"
Put it down to his 'late father's bent'
But back to this headland
she'd return each day
Early ...without relent
After this vigil
She'd walk through town
Shoulders thrown back as she'd go
Watching out
for new arrivals
the coachman's brow would lo'
In the early years
neat and composed
Never missing the odd chance to talk
Her appearance waned
with each new year
yet purpose still clear in her walk
She'd stop and she'd chat
to the waifs and the needy
A port town carries it's share
Helping out at the sailor's home too
Plenty of work to do there
She also worked hard for a living
under the Milliner's shop
Until one grey morn'
when the Constable announced:
"her rounds had come to a stop"
It seems the Squire
from a nearby cove
had called that very same day
With ghastly news
that a body was found
Floating ...face down ...in the bay
Her funeral was said to be touching
All of the children were there
Even the seamen
made their way up the hill
with flowers ...to rest in her hair
The Mayor declared her (to be)
"of good breeding"...
who came to us 'through the back door"
Describing such situations as "travesties..."
"...such things shouldn't happen at all"
Most would have noticed too
a stranger there...
Sitting amongst the throng
A refined old woman...
Who said not a word...
In a short while she was gone
The Landlord later noted:
"personal things were taken...
...right to the very last one"
All that was left
in his seaward loft
Was a rose...
...now bleached by the sun.
Forwarded from my I pad - Grahame J Flynn
Forwarded from my I pad - Grahame J Flynn
