Waiting for the Train

Waiting for the Train 

Minna found the three bobtail goannas among the cartons of empty cans and rubbish stacked at the back of the yard.

She placed them in the separate races she'd built from the broken stones which she'd carted from the tumbledown house at the end of the road.

The goannas refused to move. Minna prodded one. It opened its mouth and showed its blue tongue.

Suddenly the goanna at the far side took off, waddling furiously on its short legs.

"You'll be last." Minna warned the defiant one, still mouthing its rage and fear.

The goanna in the middle race scrambled over the dividing wall of broken stone.

"Naughty." Minna scolded as she put the creature back behind the others in punishment. "You have to keep in your race track."

The goannas were moving nicely now. The defiant one caught up with the other two. "Come on," Minna cried to it. "You can win."

 The goannas reached the end of the race lanes and scuttled to safety among the wooden boxes, empty forty-four-gallon fuel drums and kerosene tins at the back of the yard.

"Minna," her mother called from the verandah. "Can you see the train?"

Minna climbed the peppercorn tree and stared southwards across the flat treeless plain in the direction whence the train came. "No, Mumma."

Minna's mother closed the gates at the rail crossing when the trains came through. It was her father's job but usually he was out rabbit trapping or kangaroo shooting or doing a bit of fencing for a pastoralist. Minna and her mother closed the gates even when he was home. 

Read rest of story on www.authorsden.com/laurellamperd

Wind from Danyari: download from Kindle, Apple, Kobo, Smashwords etc
Joe Hennessy builds a sheep station at Carnarvon WA for his family.

 

 

Drought is what many farmers face in Australia, Then they have the good years. As a retired farmer's wife, I know Drought very well.

 

PASTURES 

Green and lush

Were the pastures

That spring

when it rained and rained

and the washing wouldn't dry

and the children squabbled

and fought in the house. 

This year the country

Is bare earth.

Wind erodes

Sending dust storms

eddying drunkenly across paddocks. 

The children want to

Dance inside of them. 

The dust comes on a face today

The day the trucks took

The last of the sheep.

 

Buy a print copy of The Battle of Boodicuttup Creek from www.feedaread.com

Suitable for children 7-11. Leanna, Mitch and Shane try to save a creek from the developers for the water birds.

 

 

 

 

 

The Japanese Grandmother

Read the rest of The Japanese Grandmother on my website www.authorsden.com/laurellamperd

 

The Japanese Grandmother 

We were always in awe of our Japanese grandmother, so tiny and delicate in comparison to her great clodhoppers of grandchildren who took after the Australian side of the family. The only thing we inherited from her were our sloe black eyes.

To her grandchildren, she always remained an enigma. "Tell us about where you came from?" we'd beg her.

"I came from Japan," she said, her black eyes smiling.

"But where in Japan?" we'd cry, especially me, who had a greater interest than the others in our family history. "We know grandfather's family here in Melbourne but where is your Japanese family?"

She smiled mysteriously and fluttered a fan made from rice paper in front of her face, using it like a mask as she gazed at us over it, her eyes inscrutable in their darkness.

We tried to guess what grandmother's life might have been in Japan. Had she been a princess or highborn Japanese lady?

One of the younger grandchildren was sure grandmother had been a fairy. We bigger ones scoffed, sending her fleeing to grandmother for comfort.

"If you say I was a fairy, then I must have been," grandmother said. "Look, little one." Grandmother opened her fan with its exotic design. "See the crane contemplating the tree. What is he thinking?"

"He wants to build a nest and lay some eggs," my small cousin said, getting her genders mixed.

Grandmother folded the fan and placed it in my cousin’s chubby hand. "For you, little one." Sixty years later, my cousin still has it.

As we grew older, we queried grandmother's history less, that is, all except me. I suppose it was why grandfather left me the letter to be opened after my grandparents' deaths. He knew I would become an historian.

 

Download Murder Among the Roses from kindle, kobo, omnilit etc
Matt Allenby investigates a murder in the small township of Taylors Crossing and finds he is falling in love with one of his suspects.

 

Buy print copy from www.feedaread.com

For those who have visited the Memorial Dome at Geraldton, the sadness of the loss of those young sailors and the futitlity of war still fills one though it happened over seventy years ago.

FOR THE WOMEN OF ALL THE DEAD HEROES

                 [Memorial Dome at Geraldton]    

HMAS Sydney, all lost in battle

                             with the German raider, Kormoran,

                             off the West Australian coast

                             near Carnarvon,

                             November 19^th, 1941.                                       

Is that me

that iron woman

forever waving off her hero? 

Can you hear

from that place of garlanded mermaids

and siren songs? 

Your loins are hard and moist, my love.

I feel your corded muscles against my softness.

My milky breasts leak upon your chest.

Our daughter laughs and gurgles

while we make our son. 

Your lips are mine.

My body fires to your caress.

I cry my desire

and awake

to touch a vacant place. 

The hope that blazed has faded

to this wizened old woman

who now is me. 

And you.

A tiny seagull spreading its wings

on a dome of glass. 

Laurel Lamperd

 

 

Final Edition of Calamity's Corner 

Sad to say this is be the last edition of Calamity's Corner. I'll miss not receiving the bright little magazine each month.

Calamity has again suggested Christmas reading and buying, many of the books in the magazine which have been reviewed and their authors interviewed during the four and a half years of Calamity's Corner's existence.

Now is your last chance to read LJ Roberts' book review column and movie reviews by Gabriela and Sheryl.

For one who likes travelling, I was always interested in Travel News. One of my favourite cities is featured in this last edition: Paris.  

Always fond of animals, I loved Pet of the Month and some of the unusual animals featured. This month is no exception with young Cailyn from NSW Australia holding a pet carpet snake.

Jacquie Rogers has always been there with her interesting Blast from the Past tidbits.

Best of luck to Ted, Calamity's husband, who had to be rushed to hospital for a life saving operation. He is now back as good as new in the safe loving arms of Calamity.

Now to end on a personal note. I loved reading about Stefan, the hero of The Unhewn Stone and his struggles with the evil sibyl. Happiness Guaranteed, a chilling sci-fi short and the happy Billy the Bonsai Bull.

I look forward to A Summer Squall in March 13.

Farewell Calamity's Corner. I will miss you.

 http://museituppublishing.com

 

Ballad of the Sad Losers

I wrote Ballad of the Sad Losers after I'd been to one of her concerts. She is a wonderful singer. Such a full rich voice.

 

Ballad of the Sad Losers 

When Margret Roadnight came to town

Old Jimmy Cowman remembered

how he was going to be

the greatest jazz player in the world.

Play that sax, Jimmy

play them Blues.

He was Satchmo 

When Margret Roadnight came to town

She sang a song of the fifties.

Little Nancy Dee remembered

dancing with Johnnie Jones

to the old seventy-eights

Jimmy Dorsey and Glenn Miller. 

When Margret Roadnight left town

She took her songs with her.

Old Jimmy Cowman sat upon his porch.

He didn't see the crop that was failing.

Little Nancy Dee wept

remembering the night

Johnnie Jones waltzed out of her life

in the arms of her best friend. 

When Margret Roadnight left town

She took their dreams with her.

 

 

Buy print book from www.feedaread.com
Three children try to save a creek from the developers and are helped by a great goanna. Children 7-11 years.

 

 

I wrote this short story after seeing a painting with a outback woman and a child whose job it was to close the gates at the railroad crossing before the weekly train came through.

 

Waiting for the Train 

Minna found the three bobtail goannas among the cartons of empty cans and rubbish stacked at the back of the yard.

She placed them in the separate races she'd built from the broken stones which she'd carted from the tumbledown house at the end of the road.

The goannas refused to move. Minna prodded one. It opened its mouth and showed its blue tongue.

Suddenly the goanna at the far side took off, waddling furiously on its short legs.

"You'll be last." Minna warned the defiant one, still mouthing its rage and fear.

The goanna in the middle race scrambled over the dividing wall of broken stone.

"Naughty." Minna scolded as she put the creature back behind the others in punishment. "You have to keep in your race."

The goannas were moving nicely now. The defiant one caught up with the other two. "Come on," Minna cried to it. "You can win."

 The goannas reached the end of the race lanes and scuttled to safety among the wooden boxes, forty-four-gallon fuel drums and empty kerosene tins at the back of the yard.

"Minna," her mother called from the verandah. "Can you see the train?"

Minna climbed the peppercorn tree and stared southwards across the flat treeless plain in the direction whence the train came. "No, Mumma."

Minna's mother closed the gates at the rail crossing when the trains came through. It was her father's job but usually he was out rabbit trapping or kangaroo shooting or doing a bit of fencing for a pastoralist. Minna and her mother closed the gates even when he was home. 

The train arrived every two weeks at the little railway siding. There weren't many goods to unload. "We only buy the basics," said one of the pastoralist's wives, who came in with her husband to pick up the station supplies, told Minna's mother.

Read the rest of the story on my site at www.authorsden.com/laurellamperd

 

Download the Rainbow Children at www.kindlebooks.com