Mad Poets Society – Rhymes, poems and more poems

By The Bribie Islander - Local Newspaper & Blog

Poems. Riddles. Rhymes. Lyrics. Poets. Poetry

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Tags: Rhymes. Poems. Lyrics


It is the 3rd June on a cool windy day
We are walking the bush track heading for the bay
As our feet sink deep into the 4 wheel drive tracks
Left by the mullet fisherman from the night on the track
Up over the rise and onto the beach
Moreton Island a wonderous treat
The waves are white capping on a southwesterly wind
The tern birds are bomb diving into the sea again
The currents are like rapids as the tides make their way
Around the southern point while the dog people play
The wind is cutting and cold against our backs
When all of a sudden the Petrel bird smacks
The ocean water the wind and the waves
The power of this bird is on display
The Petrel bird hits the water and submerges herself
I blink and in her claws it is a fish just for her shelf
She aligns this fish in a vertical line
Clutching a hold just to say this is mine
She powers her wings and heads due north
To that hungry family that always squawks
Up on the beach are the fisherman’s swags
The trucks and nets containers and bags
Ready and waiting for the mullet to come
A cold lonely night with a generators hum
The terns and the petrels are letting them know
But wait the dolphins are really the final show
Assisting the Indigenous fisherman with their catch
Driving the mullet in by slapping their backs
Herding the mullet spawn in for the final slaughter
Knowing full well that dinner is on order
Nothing has changed from all those years ago
The dolphins are there for the fisherman you know
They swim up and down herding the mullet schools
So the nets are full as the evening gets cool
May June July is the time the mullet spawn
So the fish are for everyone who do not eat prawns
Landing that fish that is big and fat
For the flesh or the roe or just the thrill of the catch
Frying it in a pan on the wood fire camp
With the chill of the winter and the wind creating a dance
While the warmth of the fire heats the face
The sounds of Moreton Bay are a magic place

Written by Sharmayne Kurtz 3rd June 2017


It’s the month of April and I am walking along Woorim Beach
The clouds are grey and the wind is at my feet
The washed up kelp like mermaids lay glistening on the sand
No birds or shells surround them just an empty beer can
I glance at Moreton Island and can see the storm ahead
Dark steel grey clouds hiding the suns head
The sun rises above the clouds just to enhance the sea
The water is clear and not much wave
Just a perfect day for me
I am past the Woorim Surf Club and look towards the south
A group of people acting funny and looking about
A small clutch of Loggerhead Turtles sitting by their nests
The Turtle Lady assisting them from their treasure chest
Three have died already attacked by the birds of prey
A smile passes my face and I think what a way to start a day
A passerby informs us there were more in the park
Forty in the drain and some in the car park
The storms clouds and the overcast night led them to foul play
They need the moon and stars to guide them on their way
The street lights directed them into the park at night
A magnetic field enters their brain GPS without the hype
So the sand on their flippers is a must you see
Otherwise, there will be less entering the sea
At 17 yrs the female turtles will return to lay their eggs in the sand
Nature is a wonderful thing but man has put that in a can
Woorim Beach has no signs to let the tourists know
Stop! Look! and Listen! No Stop Signs here you know
1000 hatchlings left our shores to swim to the Pacific Isles
Fish birds jet skis and boats shorten their life by miles
If you witness the struggle these little creatures make
It leaves a lasting impression and makes you want to take
An action to change of how we look after their block
Turtle Season has arrived give them a chance to stop
A bit of R&R on Bribie by the sea
This little creature is so special for all the children to see
Written by Sharmayne Kurtz 28th April 2018

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