A tribute to our Fire Fighters | Other
A tribute to our Fire Fighters
Phone: +61 474 797 687
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24.01.2022 The year Australia died I love our Australian country a land of opportunity and fame. And every morning when I wake, I pray for bloody rain. The animals have more than halved, as the angry devil rages. And the Australian home is nothing more than lost historic pages. The lights are out , the water gone, the food remains a mystery. Time is running out if we want to keep our history. ... Tempers on the rise, as blame is passed about. Angry words are spoken but all we hear is shout. The men and women who fight these fires are exhausted and are broken, the families that support these people are tired, lonely and hopin And when the dust has settled and when the fires are all out, a new life will begin and everything will sprout. So Australians stand tall, keep your heads held high, and pray for the day that we have blue sky’s. Written by Kim King
23.01.2022 Until tomorrow From the barns to the beaches the land was alight. The sky was dark and smokey, the day had turned to night. There was panic in the air as the flames began to rise. People stood in awe as misbelief filled their eyes. ... Suddenly there was an eerie scream coming from the distance, hundreds of emergency services eager to give their assistance. Towns evacuated, animals run with fear, nobody knew what was next, no one had an idea. Chaos engulfs the sleepy towns, as everything is now shutdown. Some stay and fight to save their abode, others run like hell and make no sense of the road. Directions here, directions there, a nice hot shower now that would be fair. A cuppa a biscuit and a shoulder to cry on, evacuation centres are the ones we rely on. Finally they feel safe and a little less fear, then ol’ mate yells ‘pull up a chair, it’s time for a beer’. Written by Kim King
10.01.2022 My tribute to our hero’s that are keeping Australia’s heart beating. Hope you enjoy.
06.01.2022 Rest up.. On a dark and smokey evening they put their feet to rest.Beer in one hand, shake of the other, they’ve done their bloody best. Helmets laid down, muddy boots set neat, sweat off their brow, they’ve had enough heat. ... Gathered talking of their day, they stopped in their tracks, no one knew what to say.l, no one knew how to act. A noise they heard, not one they could remember, is it the sound of more burning ember? Louder and louder the sound became. Ol’ mate jumped up and yelled ‘it’s bloody rain’. Excitement scampered throughout the camp, with a whistle and a cheer, how bloody good champ. Maybe it’ll keep going or maybe it’ll be cheap, but at least tonight they’ll get some sleep. Written by Kim King
