There are times in our life where we simply cannot say ‘yes’.   The reasons do vary.  For those of us who have had to say ‘no’ for our wellbeing, or, for the wellbeing of others, here is our little ‘no’ verse.


Arrr … sorry…

But no.




The dirty, little

Two-letter word.

How we find

It hard to day.

The guilt:

Shouldn’t I have

Said ‘yes’?



Means no;


Means yes.

When we cannot do,

We just have to

Cross that chasm,

The tremulous terrain,

And drop it.

That dreaded ‘n’ word.






Simon C.J. Falk           8 April 2015.


Golden Grains, Golden Light

Golden Grains, Golden Light

Being in Australia, our Christmas is a summer experience. Light, sun, warmth, storms, grain harvest.  All feature in rural NSW.  This poem celebrates some of that experience.  It was shared at the Rotary  Gathering with Christian Leaders in Temora NSW.

Golden Grains, Golden Light

Golden grains, golden light!

In our ‘Southland Christmas’ night.

The light of Christ enters our dawn,

As we celebrate Christmas morn.


Storms crash by with lightning flash,

Fires then threaten the golden cash,

Cash in heads on golden stems,

All fenced and rowed within their hems.


In the paddocks day after day,

Golden grains formed in the hay,

Then the harvest trucks and headers strain,

Leaving golden stubble on the plain.


From the stubble the convoys go,

To the grain-dumps and silo,

In sun and wind and overcast sky

The waiting trucks in queue standby.


The golden grains go off to the mill,

And then bags and packets take their fill,

Warehouses and shops fill aisles and shelves,

Are like Santa’s presents among the elves.


The golden grains go in shopping trolleys,

Where families also stuff in lollies;

They go in bread stuffing of the Christmas roast,

And are in the stubbie raised in toast.


On that first Christmas faraway,

Some golden grains had grown the hay,

Wherein the infant Christ child lay,

The one who gave us Christmas day.


As the child later grew,

His followers spread to more than a few,

He taught of a planted golden grain,

That fell and died within the plain.


This grain rose from the earth towards the sun,

It shared in a great victory won,

A victory over death and sin,

For all of those who followed him.


So this Christmas we pray for peace,

For those interred to find release,

That the poor and hungry living in fright,

May wake to greet a dawning light.


A light of one like a golden grain,

Who was born to slake their pain,

Who like the sun will never wane,

Glowing among us like golden grain.




Simon C.J. Falk 12 December 2014

Repost: The Kelpie Dog at Christmas

The Kelpie Dog at Christmas

This is a repost of a poem for an Aussie Christmas last year.  A new Aussie Christmas poem for this year Golden Grains, Golden Light!  will be available shortly.

The Kelpie Dog at Christmas

They gathered around the Christmas scene,

All those years ago;

In the cold air of Bethlehem,

In a rocky cave hollow.


Mary, Joseph and Jesus,

Gathered on some hay;

Amongst the rocks and animals,

On that first Christmas day.


Angels called to shepherds,

Who came in from fields to adore;

On entering the cave they crouched down,

Amongst the animals and straw.


Outside the cave in the weather,

Some sheep twitched in cold, damp fog;

But before they could get away,

Along came a kelpie dog!


His black coat glistened with droplets,

His ears pointed to the stars;

His eyes took stock of that restless flock,

He’d put an end to their baas!


He circled round the flock,

He mobbed them right in tight;

They were bunched up together,

On that first Christmas night.


And while the shepherds paid respect

To Jesus on the hay;

That kelpie dog served vigil,

And kept the sheep at bay.


That night was long and dreary,

The cold got in to their bones;

And while those inside were snug,

Sheep and dog stood on chilly stones.


When the night was waning,

And the sun appeared in the sky;

The shepherds emerged from the cavern,

And what did they spy?


A tight little mob of warm sheep,

Looking on with hungry eyes;

And a kelpie dog with a glistening coat,

Under early morning skies.


The shepherds looked in wonder,

And one let out a cheer:

“Bravo, our kelpie dog!

You’ve saved the day out here!”


The dog looked up in approval,

Giving a slobbery grin;

Then trotted off past them,

And to the cave went in.


He sauntered up to the manger,

Right up close he did;

“Oh no!” Cried out a shepherd,

“He’ll dribble on the kid!”


But the dog looked on in reverence,

He slowly bowed his head;

Then nestled down beside the Christ child,

And went to sleep instead.


Now some may say this is legend,

And wasn’t part of the night;

But legends survive in generations,

As well as books written right.


When you remember Christmas,

As an adult or as a kid;

Rest in the presence of Jesus,

Like the kelpie did.



Simon C.J. Falk          Repost from 17 December 2013.



Gardens of Wonder, Gardens of Delight 1

Gardens of Wonder, Gardens of Delight 1

A trip to the Japanese Gardens of Cowra and Chinese Gardens of Young (both in Rural NSW) provided some restful rejuvenation.


Gardens of Wonder, Gardens of Delight 1

Two ducks swimming:

Verging a vee,

Like an arrow,

pointing towards us,

not in violence,


to pierce our senses

with restful delight.

Pond to ponder

among the shrubbery.



and sound,

between the silence.


Simon C.J. Falk, Completed 12 December 2014



Blind Snake Out the Back

Blind Snake Out the Back

On the same night that gave rise to ‘Little One’ this fun verse emerged from the wake.  It is full of puns and insinuations.  It is meant to add lightness even in times of great sadness.  What a precious paradox life is. 

Blind Snake Out the Back

For a family who know who they are

You’ve seen folk blind at BBQs,

Seen ‘em blind in the backyard;

But have you seen a blind snake

Without looking really hard?

This thing was twisting round the veranda post,

Up near the rafters;

When we had finished off dessert and main course,

And getting stuck into the afters.

As we had ‘the one we came for’,

Some said: “It is a snake!”

So off we went to investigate

At now a different kind of wake.

They got it down and killed it,

Before the shovel even arrived;

The little slimy tacker

Was no longer alive.

We’ve heard of Red Backs on the toilet,

And now, even in Japan!

But blind snakes on verandas

Pull the other leg young man!

It wasn’t that we were legless,

Why, we was barely hookin’ in;

It really had some wondering,

Was it a big worm for the bait tin?

It wasn’t blind on whiskey,

Nor was it blind on beer;

It hadn’t caught a rum chaser,

Or copped a ‘Sidecar’ in the rear.

An iPhone search was had:

“Tell us, Dr Google, please?”

“Is there cause for concern?”

“No, I haven’t knocking knees!”

Turns out it was a blind snake,

‘Worm snake’ some get named;

Now back to that bubbling stubbie

Since the wildlife’s been tamed.

So the little blind snake,

It had been blind from birth;

Australia is one of the places

Blind snakes are found on earth.

If you’re exchanging beer yarns

At a session out the back;

As the night gets on and lights are dim,

Give this one a crack.

Simon C.J. Falk           29 October 2014

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