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Shearing – by Lorna Madson

I thought it was time for another poem as seeing as a few farmers around here have been shearing, I thought this was appropriate. Enjoy.   Shearing – by Lorna Madson I still recall shearing at Dad’s place, All those early starts, Learning to skirt the fleeces, Pulling off the daggy parts. I remember Dad
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Holidays

I had to work for the first three weeks of Jan, running the local shop. But after that I headed straight down to the coastal town of Hopetoun, south WA. It was just gorgeous as the kids and I went swimming the moment we arrived. (Hubby had farmers still harvesting so he couldn’t join us
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Mornings

  I have been walking in the mornings at 5.30am with my mum. Sometimes we walk around the paddocks behind our house and up to the rock. It takes us about an hour return trip walking fast. But as much as I hate getting out of bed it is so worth it. The air is
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The Storm by Lorna Madson

We have been having plenty of storms this harvest so it seemed fitting for me to share this next poem with you.       The Storm by Lorna Madson As the storm clouds gather and the thunder rolls about, The wind drops off, it’ll rain there’s no doubt, The question is how much we
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