ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

My son gave me a hard covered book of empty pages. This was before I bagan writing and even before I fell into the wonderful world of Australian Rhyming Poetry. He wrote on the first few pages some lovely words about how he appreciated my mothering skills and suggested I write my life story. I began to think back over my life and the thought came that there are probably things in my past that I may not wish my children to know.

This was what came out.

Heart To Heart
© Zondrae King (12/01)

Son, do you know what you ask?
To see the face without the mask
I’ll have to try to find a way
to shed the mask I wear each day.
The armour that I choose to wear
To hide, protect, conceal me there.

You’d think that I’m an open book
but very few know how to look.
No one knows me through and through
nor understands me, even you.
Such simple things bring me great joy.
(a smile from my precious baby boy)

I’ll try to do the things you ask
but writing is a tedious task.
I guide a hand that won’t obey
to write the things I’d like to say.
I always try to do my part.
That’s why I write this heart to heart.

There’s one more thing I’d like to say
Idols can have feet of clay.


This was in February 2001. I met Vic Jefferies at Majors Creek the following November ... and the rest, as they say, is history.

Hi Zondrae
Thank goodness for sons who give their mothers a little push along the path they are destined to take!!!

We are in debt to him.

Catchya
IRene

another gem that seems to have slipped by without our noticing. How lovely are these words of Zondraes, and Kym is so right...without a sons little push to get Zondrae po'ing who knows where her talents may have hidden

Cheers

Maureen

I am glad someone has the time and more so the patience to trawl through the past in these pages and bring some of this stuff that many of us missed back up...Thanks Maureen......as usual some great stuff from our mate Zondrae.

you are very welcome Ross - hate to see some of these fall by the wayside - just doing my boy scout/girl guide good deed

These days my time is my own and I answer to no one so as long as my dogs are fine and the house and garden are in a relative state of order I have all the time God gives me...plus my son is OS for 8 weeks I miss him but don't let on - he likes to think his Mum loves the dogs more than him. Dumb kid Would hate to spoil his allusions

It's very interesting how some of our earlier work, sometimes a bit technically flawed but often very fresh and direct in a way that we can lose if we are not careful.
(That's just a thought prompted by your piece Zondrae, not a criticism of you) .

I really like this poem, because it is fresh, clear and direct and economical in laguage. So much in a small space. Excellent.

Hi Zondrae,
There maybe times when we need a push,
but, it is brave to accept the challenge and take the first step, come what may.

Your verses are testament to where the path led.

Thank you for sharing and showing your heart,

Eliza

and as an afternote:


This poem refers to 'a hand that won't obey' - I refer to the frustration of having Parkinson's. Some mornings I have problems even putting on the kettle before my medication kicks in. (God bless all medical researchers and dedicated Pharmacists who develope new drugs)

hi Zondrea,
It is good to know I am not the only person who talk to and take their hand to task for NOT performing as it should and the way it is expected to. Sometimes it feels like I am facing a disobedient child!
My Aunt Mary set me the example of talking to it, and learning how to be ambidextrous and telling the uncooperative hand so!. Sometimes it is not that straight forward.

I do not suffer from Parkinson's disease or anything life-threaten, except life itself, so all power to you and others who struggle and to the researchers.


Thank you again, you are still courageous everyday

Eliza

Said almost exactly the same thing at a fundraiser for prostate research last week Marty.


These people who can do some good have to scrape and beg for almost every dollar.

Criminal Bob