There once was a flea called Heather,
who really felt under the weather.
She went to see her pharmacist,
– known to most as a romanticist
and now they are living together.
Chrissy Siggee 2020
Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix
A Collection of my Poems
There once was a flea called Heather,
who really felt under the weather.
She went to see her pharmacist,
– known to most as a romanticist
and now they are living together.
Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix
In response to dVerse’s Birthday Haibun Challenge
dVerse Poets Pub
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With the semi-retirement of my husband also came poorer health for me and I wasn’t looking forward to my 60th birthday. Being the wife of a military man has been a good life but it also brings family separations especially with our children who are now grown up and married with their own. Across states and interstate, I thought the misery of another birthday without my family would drown me in sorrow.
To my delight we all met up in the Hunter Valley, New South Wales – winery country, less than an hour from our daughter’s family home. Our son and his family stayed in the adjoining cabin to ours. Physical pain on our four-hour road trip threatened to ruin plans for a lovely weekend but with the sun bursting through the clouds on arrival and seeing family, filled me with warmth and joy.
I don’t remember much of the weekend but the joy and smiles from our four grandchildren will forever stay in my memory just as the cream and fruit oozed from the birthday pavlova they helped decorate.
Chrissy Siggee August 7th 2020 (Sydney time)
There once was a man called Rob,
who lived in the town of Dungog.
With daily doses of moonshine,
he couldn’t walk a straight line.
Sadly, he drowned in his grog.
(Note: Dungog is a rural town near Maitland north of Sydney)
Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix
There once was a fly called Mable,
whose life was quite unstable.
You see, she lived in Humpty Doo
where they loved their barbecues
but often drank flies in their booze.
Chrissy Siggee 2020
(Note: Humpty Doo is a small town approximately 40 kms from Darwin, Northern Territory Australia)
Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix
There once was a man called Rob,
who lived in the town of Dungog.
With daily doses of moonshine,
he couldn’t walk a straight line.
Sadly, he drowned in his grog.
Note: Dungog is a town in New South Wales, Australia.
Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix
There once was a bear named Dwight,
who raided beehives by day
and licked his paws by night.
He ate so much his teeth fell out,
now he can only suck trout.
Archived in 🦋 Poetry Mix
There was a young man called Bill,
who lived in a town near Broken Hill.
He often dreamed of buying a yacht,
and thought he would name it Hotshot.
Instead, he inherited a windmill.
Chrissy Siggee 2020
Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Archived in 🦋 Poetry Mix
The fresh smell of damp earth is no longer
Air thick with red dust sweeps across the plains
Creek beds and dams completely dried up
Deep crevices formed like lightning bolts in the earth
Sheep and cattle wander – struggling for survival
Farmers open gates to their withered crops
while we city-dwellers have our fill.
Children play in the shade of Coolabah trees
where temperatures are of little difference –
Families battle against all odds to save their land
Determination and courage reveal their Aussie spirit
Household over-draughts rise beyond all revenue
Farmers are fraught by the burden of debt
Requests for assistance, shatters their humble pride.
An unrestrained sun blazes mercilessly
Occasional clouds overhead constrain their moisture –
Flies stick and infest the cut-price sale yards
Stock owners livelihoods plundered and rorted
Gone are the days of cattlemen and their droving
Greener pastures no longer exist in this dry barren land
Australia, why do we ignore their anxious plight?
Suicides are frequent in this desperate land
Every four days a man takes his life
Outback families weep – completely torn by grief
Livelihoods shattered by troubled times
Land owned for generations – now in ruins
How dire must the life of the Aussie battler be?
A nightmare has replaced their great Aussie dream.
Open the heavens and send down the rain
Fill our dams and drench our dry thirsty land
Refresh our rural regions with life-filled rains
Bring hope and life to struggling families
Restore to this nation a sense of mate-ship
For God, if this drought continues into another day,
the true-blue Aussie will be lost forever.
© Chrissy Siggee 24thOctober 2006
Although written in 2006, I feel that this is relevant today.
On 12 Apr 2018 at 2:40pm this statement was released on the ABC: Seasonal conditions are worsening across 90 per cent of New South Wales, and some farmers are forking out up to $10,000 a week to maintain livestock.
http://www.abc.net.au/news/2018-04-11/farmers-hit-hard-by-drought-in-new-south-wales/9640038
Archived in: Poetry Mix
A little cry drifts down the hall
announcing Jane’s awake—
Breakfast dishes partly done,
Just a small sacrifice to make.
‘Share’, she says, stepping over twins and blocks.
The washing machine begins to shake
And little Amy’s has a fall—
Two more loads will do today,
A bigger machine, I really need.
‘There now’ she soothes, stroking Amy’s locks.
Tim and Robbie are almost five.
Will their fighting ever end?
At least next year they’ll go to school,
to miss them she could not pretend.
‘Coming,’ she sighs, picking up a pair of socks.
The telephone rings in her room
She grabs it as she passes by—
Judy’s baby isn’t sleeping,
She’s so tied she wants to cry.
‘It’s ok’ she smiles, ‘I can mind your little Enoch.’
Amy wants to change her clothes
and play out in the rain.
‘Not right now my little one,
It’s time to feed our baby Jane.’
‘Mummy’s here’, she s smiles, giving Jane a gentle rock.
Jane is finally fed and bathed,
and it’s only half past eight!
Little Amy’s far too quiet…
last week she escaped through the gate!
I need to remind Tom to fix that lock.
Now there’s someone at the door,
Tim and Robbie run down the hall—
Oh dear, Robbie’s lost another shoe,
He lost the last pair at the mall.
‘Come on,’ she calls, ‘let’s answer that knock.’
Enoch really has a lot of zest,
being quite the noisy guest—
He’s into this and into that,
She hopes poor Judy gets some rest.
‘Lunch time’, she announces, glancing at the clock.
Macaroni is a lunchtime favorite,
Followed by cup of juice…
Looks like more dishes will have to wait,
Where does her morning go?
‘Wash you face,’ she laughs. ‘You gave me quite a shock.’
Enoch forgot to bring his bedtime toy,
It took a while to calm him down—
The twins woke up tired and cranky,
Oh dear, Amy’s made her wall all … brown.
Peek-a-boo!’ She surprises little Amy wearing Mummy’s frock.
Chaos reigns in an afternoon frenzy,
Toys and books spread everywhere—
Judy looks a whole lot better,
She even found the time to brush her hair.
‘Daddy will be home soon boys, so put away your blocks.’
A little cry drifts down the hall,
Announcing Jane’s awake…
Perhaps Tom will order pizza for tea.
Sigh…she never did get time to bake his birthday cake.
© Chrissy Siggee
Archived in: Poetry Mix
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