Written during the devastating 2004 bushfires by Jacqui Warnock
I saw the sun come up today,
its first bright red and piercing ray;
an orange ball in a sea of grey,
fiery light from far away.
Summertime is here again
and there seems little chance of rain:
tinder bush and sunburnt plain –
firefighters to feel the strain.
In Australia ‘Be Prepared’
if housing sites and bush are shared.
Precautions and advice are aired –
‘Fire Safe’ is how we’re reared.
The chopper overhead does clatter
while sirens wail and firemen chatter.
Bags and rakes the flames do batter.
Houses burn but it’s lives that matter.
The evening news shows people’s tears
as a raging fire front nears,
and when the smoke and panic clears,
what’s left confirms the awful fears.
We donate to those in need
and feel for farmers without feed.
It’s telecast, the bushfire’s greed,
the bans and warnings all must heed.
It’s here again the bushfire season,
and drought and heat must be the reason
the risk of fire will not be easing,
troubled vision of loss displeasing.
I saw the sun go down today,
a fiery ball that slipped away –
clouds like embers amongst the grey.
Thank those who’ve kept the fires at bay.