The ReapingA Poem by charlieNo trees: no rain.
Ten million men: they’re marvellous! Fat, ridin’ on the gold sheep’s back: Advancin’ with the Southern Cross And mother England’s Union Jack:
“We’ll burn the flamin’ houses down! We’ll turn ‘em into ploughin’ ground.”
Ten million men: they’re marvellous! Dry-reachin’ for the season’s rain: Grimacin’ at the Southern Cross Through scorchin’ haze and dust drenched plains...
“We’ve burned the flamin’ houses down! We’ve turned ‘em into ploughin’ ground.”
© 2018 charlieAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on August 7, 2018 Last Updated on August 10, 2018 Tags: environment; land management; tr Author
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