Paul Warren

I dream of you
When I feel the first rays of the morning sun
At evening when the long day is finally done
On a blazing day when a cool breeze blows
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The muse whispers quietly in my ear
Just loud enough to hear quite clear
I know she will not leave me
Being persistent and not setting me free
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An Australian day is dawning bright and new
In a wide bright sky forever painted azure blue
Kookaburras laugh greeting the sun's arrival
The steam engine strains awaiting its revival
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Blue sky forever on
Stretching to the horizon
Is your path planned?
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I wander through the corridors of time
Visiting the rooms there in my mind
And some faces I see again
A few that I call friends
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The day breaks of morning dew
As it glistens brightly I think of you
Shiny now against brightening blue
I remember you in all the things I do
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The day of the year is finally here
Again we gather together in good cheer
Christmas Eve is the Carols by Candlelight
With those treasured songs sung so bright
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I watched something on the television in a program about Euthanasia
And since my father died from cancer what palliative care would be a saviour
I can understand I think how sick people would want a choice in their death
And some dignity with it from degenerative diseases that are horrible in their breath
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They say everyone has a spiritual guide
So that your decisions are not too one eyed
I’ve thought this through so this is my list
What about Elvis who has a musical gist
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I have a little man who whispers in my ear
I may not always see him but he doesn't disappear
You know he knows right from wrong and will tell me quite clear
Whatever it takes to find the truth I will know it is now near
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In judgement’s call a parchment list revealed
Of deeds indefensible and innocence congealed
A baby left all alone in an oppressive heat
The mother’s denial was for herself to secrete
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Hot days and cool nights
Perfect Australian weather
The Great Southern Land
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Gazing out on an aqua blue sea on a golden sunny day
With a cool breeze in your face is such a happy stay
As the surf rolls to the beach the children happily play
With boats anchored out to the horizon in a fishing display
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On the dusty table there sat
Dirty cups and plates and other nick-nats
Swept across the table was a book
That had news clippings worth a look
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So strange to want these things

A sweet cool breeze
On a warm summer's day
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Gordon Loft was a traffic officer working radar duty
Whose wife and daughter was in a family beauty
His crew were operating the radar on Gorge road
And detected an offender in speeding car mode
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A man demanding white supremacy stands with a gun
Church goers cower as bullets speak their evil done
A grand-mother, coach and preacher breathe their last
Tears are not enough surely the day of the gun has past
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Words can be hurtful
The same words can heal as well
Which do you choose now
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I remember my first cuddle from her
As she held me in her arms as I stirred
And how she was always there
My Mum whom I know did care
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If we don't want to fight
Why do we make weapons so right
And we plot and scheme
About defeating an enemy as our dream
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