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fauna, A myriad of hues. True scent of eucalyptus, The bright of wattle tree — Mmm, smoky taste of damper sighs, “This is home,” to me.</p><p id="6caa">Wrench me not from where I lie, Allow my last repose — Dreams of cowboys tall on steeds Where dusty cattle drove. Let me feel the blister sun, And gentle zephyr breeze, Final kiss of Mother’s love Before I take my leave.</p><p id="84dd">Poemorama Prompt Part III:</p><div id="b35e" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/poemorama-part-iii-3514a2643220"> <div> <div> <h2>Poemorama: Part III</h2> <div><h3>Onto the last part of the month-long prompt, ‘Tribute.’</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*ANsMfPO3lSNj48QBzAAURA.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="735e"><a href="undefined">Carolyn Hastings</a> likes to be a little unconventional:</p><div id="7f56" class="link-block"> <a

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href="https://readmedium.com/the-one-tree-in-the-forest-fallacy-55f0d80b63ed"> <div> <div> <h2>The One Tree in the Forest Fallacy</h2> <div><h3>An unconventional sonnet</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*_duiQneipmiAE_omvt3oNQ.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="435f"><a href="undefined">Somsubhra Banerjee</a> told us a love story:</p><div id="9cdb" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/i-keep-coming-back-3b9fbe8a408d"> <div> <div> <h2>I Keep Coming Back</h2> <div><h3>Only</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*LQ9rV6I0o1ivNJK8F5oZMg.png)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

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POEMORAMA AT PAPER POETRY

Leave Me Here

Rhyming Poetry — a tribute to the poem My Country by Dorothea MacKellar

My birthland does not beckon The way my homeland calls, There is no poignant heart pull Whene’er my mind recalls The long white-clouded islands, Aotearoa. Kiwi bird survived and flew — Sadly, not the moa!

I love my sunburnt country, This ancient land of lore Stories dream’d and woken told Of all that came before. I love its sun-parched vista, Its scorch’d and thirsty lands Contrast plains of rich, red soil Coerced by calloused hands.

Sing me songs of billabongs, And waltzing kangaroos, Jumbucks in a tucker-bag, The Snowy River blues. Boomerangs that won’t return, And pubs that have run dry, Or homes among the gumtrees, The road to Gundagai.

I love this land of colours, With seas of azure blue, Its flora and its fauna, A myriad of hues. True scent of eucalyptus, The bright of wattle tree — Mmm, smoky taste of damper sighs, “This is home,” to me.

Wrench me not from where I lie, Allow my last repose — Dreams of cowboys tall on steeds Where dusty cattle drove. Let me feel the blister sun, And gentle zephyr breeze, Final kiss of Mother’s love Before I take my leave.

Poemorama Prompt Part III:

Carolyn Hastings likes to be a little unconventional:

Somsubhra Banerjee told us a love story:

Poemorama
My Country
Rhyming Poetry
Australia
Homeland
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