R. K. Hart
R. K. Hart Poems
A Fathers Words To His Child.
Children are the gentle breezes for which parents plea.
They come they play around us then they flee.
We would hold them to our breast,
Protecting against all of life's dreadful tests.
You teach and doggedly hold.
But the day must come when they break from the mold.
With resounding break of a parental heart.
They step away, a life of their own to start.
I watched a beautiful young woman as she stepped the isle.
With maids surrounding she flashes her parents a comforting smile.
Where is the tomboy, who bowled the boys out?
And where is our back yards ...
The Tulip And The Wattle
She played among chocolate and silver walls,
Her music was the kookaburra's calls.
He played among walls wool and wheat,
Where the Riverina grass is sweet.
She had come from a far land,
With beautiful tulips and windmills grand.
There was her land and its majestic history.
Which to him was a mystery.