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Shadow of Myself.

 

Pauline

Shadow Of myself.

I am part of Pauline’s shadow, we move as one, and without Pauline I would cast a pale shadow.

My three sons have always been the light in my life without their warmth I would not exist at all. I cast more than one shadow, depending on the position of what is elluminating me.

Pauline has eclipsed me but my ego is under control, so I can live with that, there is no reason to get out of step or change step. If I were ever forced to change step, it would be a cloudy day and my shadow would not be so defined.

It is wonderful to have friends, even if they are other peoples. My friends are Pauline’s friends; many would disappear like dew drops in the morning sun without Pauline. Then the clouds would bring rain and the grass would grow again. As for the flowers in my garden, they would never look the same and I would have to work hard for them to bloom at all. My sons would be a help but they have gardens of their own to tend.

When the storm clouds gather, the storm clouds inky black and shadows wax strongly and thunder bolts hurtle, the lightning flickers around my lonely track, you may see an eerie figure shadow all bathed in electric blue, cast by a ghostly figure of a fellow you once knew.

Looking to Surfers Paridise from Burleigh Headland.

I love a sun burnt country, I live down by the sea and except for melanoma, there’s no better place to be. So when you are in Surfers keep an eye out for a shadow obscured by SPF30, the shadow cast by me.

Jacks shadow.

After storm clouds, rainbows tend to appear, and shadows are not so noticeable in soft delicate light. I look for rainbows but during stormy weather, when the world has got me snouted cool fortune’s dirty left has smote my soul, a segmental bloke like me looks at the ones worse off, that gets my mind off me and my troubles.

Troubles and worries all pass, nothing stays the same, time changes both the pleasant and the unpleasant. The past has gone, don’t worry, the now will pass, don’t worry, the future is unknown, don’t worry be happy. It is said worry does not help, but most of the things I have worried about never happened. Keep a positive attitude look at the donut not the hole.

Note. I recall some lines from old favorite Aussie poems and sprinkle them in, see if you can find them.

 4 verse. “Ballard of the Drover.” By Henery Lawson.

Bell Birds.” Henery Kendall.

My Country.” Dorothea Mackllar.

Spring Song.” from . “Songs of The Sentimental Bloke.” C.J. Dennis.

Sunny Out back Winton N.W. Queensland.

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