TWELVE APOSTLES (POEM AND TRAVEL)

Last week we tagged along with my daughter and her three young children for a ten-day visit to Melbourne. We rented a nine-seater van, with proper seats for the kids, and GPS. We spent about eight days in a friend’s bungalow. Their generosity and hospitality was overwhelming, and over extended in many ways that we could never match. At arrival at the Airport before midday, we received news that there was an attempted break-in into my house, but no entry and nothing was stolen, except some damages to the doors. The weather was cold, but no rain. We took the opportunity to drive to Phillip Island, and to the Coast the following day.It was a great sight. We are all thrilled by the penguins, and the cliffs and beaches.

TWELVE APOSTLES

 

Fair dinkum, mate.

We have some drinks.

And can still walk straight.

You can’t count and think.

There’s eight, not twelve, apostles.

Nine stacks, before the mind boggles.

It’s all for tourism and marketing.

A stunning coast needs no proper naming.

Beauty is engraved on the cliffs and velvety sand,

When you stroll with love ones hand-in-hand.

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