Such good people

Such good people

Are we

There will be no killing

No blood letting

Not here, not now

We sit around our campfires

Wild colonials

Singing throaty anthems

Full of good cheer

Getting back to nature.

Glamping is a privilege

Like sitting in first class

Passenger lounges

With a free pass

When once,

We were nomads.

The denials diminish us

As the smoke curls

The sausages sizzle

Like the infidel’s flesh

On an open fire

The heathen’s tongue

Forked by hand

The noble savage

Beaten to the punch

Herded by drovers.

We were all shepherds

Kicked into touch

By the Empire

Hung out to dry

By the traitor’s gate

Closed to all but

The chosen.

Read your scripture

Learn it well

Beneath the subtext

There is compassion

Where are the Samaritans?

Too many pass by

Turn a blind eye

Hope they are mistaken.

There is goodness here

By the campfire

A warm glow

At midnight

When the clock chimes,

There will be no reparation

Just repudiation

It is in the genes.