BUTCHERS PARADE

David Morisset's novel of nostalgic realism, "Butchers Parade", is now available as an ebook in all popular formats through Smashwords (at www.smashwords.com).

Set in the third quarter of the twentieth century, the stories of 'Butchers Parade' feature the quintessentially Australian location of Redgate - a meatworks town on the western fringe of Sydney - as well as the blighted circumstances of wartime Indo-China. The narratives are united by the presence of the hulking figure of Horrie, a young meatworker who spends his spare time playing rugby league and drinking at the Railway Hotel. Horrie loves his home town and its people but he is conscripted and sent to fight in Vietnam. On his return to Redgate, Horrie is a troubled man, haunted by distorted recollections of brutal battles and caught up in a romance that seems hopeless.

The hard copy version is available through Amazon and its affiliated distributors (see www.amazon.com or simply google "Butchers Parade").

CHRISTMAS

The wise men - or magi - presenting gifts to Jesus in this picture were, according to tradition, Persian scholars trained in the disciplines of astrology.

Whether there were three of them is a matter of conjecture because the Bible mentions only that "wise men from the east" brought three presents for the newborn king.

Nevertheless, the Bible tells us that they were instrumental in helping the baby Jesus escape death after Herod issued a decree to have all new born boys executed.  An educated reader of the gospels would be reminded not only of the story of Moses' avoidance of a similar decree by Egypt's Pharaoh but also of the accounts of the Old Testament that describe how Cyrus the Great of Persia secured safe passage back to Jerusalem for the exiled Jews in Babylon (five hundred years earlier than the birth of Christ).

Indeed, the prophet Isaiah refers to Cyrus as the anointed one - the same term applied to Jesus.  I gather the original Hebrew term is something like our modern word 'messiah' and in ancient Greek it would be rendered like our term 'christ'.

So this nativity scene in the style of Persian art is rich with meaning and reminds us that the history of Western civilisation owes so much to the Iranians of antiquity.

GLOBAL WARMING

From the elevated verandah

There was a view

Of the large back yard –

A well-grassed stretch

That did not quite go on forever.

A mass of pale purple pigface flowers

Clumped beside the fibro outside toilet.

A dull perfume rose

From the row

Of dwarf oleanders

That divided the yard

Into two unequal portions.

A slightly acrid smell

From the poison olive leaves

Camouflaged

Occasional unpleasant odours

From the adjacent septic tank.

The backdrop tang

Of the universal eucalypts

Almost failed to register.

At times the yard was full

Of the noise of birds –

Black and white magpies

With their symphonies,

Dirty brown sparrows

With their monotonous chirps,

And, spasmodically,

Regal kookaburras

Looking for something

To laugh about

While the turquoise tips

Of their tucked-in wings

Flashed in the brilliant light.

This afternoon it was quiet –

So peaceful

That an energetic corgi

Settled down for nap,

His front legs

With their pure white feet

Cradling his fox-like face.

Out on the horizon,

Above the cerulean blurs

Of the Blue Mountains,

The sun seemed to strobe listlessly

As it slipped lower in the western sky,

Reddening the mean remnants

Of scattered cumulus clouds.

It was a good time to dream

For people who were so inclined.

But better just to gaze,

Lazily,

At the fiery performance in the sky

Until the powder blue canopy

Turned indigo

And the evening star

Pricked its way

Into the purple gloom.

Acknowledgement: the painting is by Joe Cartwright
(see www.paintingwithcolors.com)

COLD COLLAROY

Collaroy was cold and wet today.

The surf spat like a spoiled toad

And the wind washed faces with spray,

While a dozen walkers to’d and fro’d.

Gritty grey clouds crowded

Looking stately, steely, stern and gruff;

Hulking behind the glass-eyed houses

Peering from the plateau above the bluff.

The sea took in the monochrome sky

And turned into that greeny grainy blue

That never pleases quite enough

To achieve the level of a lovely view.

Often when the slow churning sky turns dark

The cold water seems warmer than the bitter air.

But today those waves of creamy chop and froth

Were too ragged with rips and tows to try their fare.

Then the rain swept up from the south

Careening across, making bubbles like blisters on the swell.

Showered droplets drenched sand into patterned pockmarks

While walkers stretched their steps into runs of rude farewell.