Bushfire
It comes again that telltale smell
that hot and acrid, gritty smell,
the first and subtle warning note
feared herald of an earthly hell.
And then that terrifying sight
once seen a n'ere forgotten sight,
coal black and boiling, billows rise
war banners of that merciless might.
And follows soon an awesome sound
hell born this deadly numbing sound,
that roaring, crushing, agony,
as panic grows and fears confound.
Death comes on at breakneck speed
borne on the swiftest airs it speeds,
on red hot winds from arid heart
this mad infernos lusts to feed.
Fiery mouths consume the land
a helpless, futile, cringing land,
bled dry by summers aching spite
ripe to fall to bushfires hand.
In pain it goes, it passes on
But ever in the memory lingers on
The blackened twisted tortured land
The stuff of nightmares; never done
