Dust Bowl Poem
This Dust Bowl Poem was written by our Mother when we lived in the outback.
When there is a dust storm it gets into everything and our Mother, probably like every other woman in the bush, hated the bloody dust.
Dust Bowl
Dust! rolling, blinding, dirty, grinding,
Dust!
It swirls around, along the ground, then
In the air, it isn't fair!
It howls and groans,
It squeals and moans,
It gets in everywhere.
It finds each hole,
And every bowl,
And fills them all with glee.
Through doors,
On floors,
On every book and chair.
It stings!
It clings!
Then leaves behind
Despair!
Dust everywhere.
But,
Clean it up,
Wash every cup,
Polish floors,
Shine doors,
Clean up this cursed stuff.
Now!
That will do,
Just like new,
But!
Look outside!
No, no, don't hide,
It's just
More dust!
Rolling, blinding, dirty, grinding,
Dust!
Stella P. Bell
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"The Legend of Bimi"
Introduction
There's a tale that begins in the sand hills
That I would like to tell,
Built from myth and many legends,
And my pen it does compel.
The desert's a hot, a hostile place,
Nothing's changed since time began,
There's a hazy unreality there
As if it, in the dreamtime was planned.
The noon of the day is so hot and still,
And over all an expectant hush,
Like a canvas that's waiting impatiently
For the touch of the artists brush.
The fire of the day can change swifly
To the night of startlingly cold,
Many legends are told of the people
Who live in this land so old.
To continue to read the introduction to this wonderful piece of poetry our Mother wrote called
"The Legend of Bimi" just go to our
Epic Poetry page
We know you will love it!