Sydney Barangaroo Kangaroo Poem Cheers Up Reader

Hi, it’s Greenygrey, it was great to read that Grey’s Barangaroo Kangaroo poem from its Werewolf of Oz book (published under Marc Latham’s name in the human world) cheered up a reader after it was published in Etips last month. Barbara wrote: ‘Thank you for Tips 90 with more fine poetry, a brilliant tonic. I’m still laughing at Marc Latham’s ‘The Barangaroo Kangaroo’ which cheered me up on a monsoon type day.’

Sunshine on a Rainy Day Created Greenygrey?

And that is the essence of Greenygrey. Although we are the colours of a cloudy day in a fertile landscape, we try to bring a little sunshine to a cloudy day.

In fact, one version of Greenygrey folklore says we were all-grey until the sun partially greened us, so we are also known in the werewolf world as sun wolves or basking wolves.

Maybe Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s book-title: Sherlock Holmes and the Hound of the Baskervilles was inspired by the Greenygrey legend…

Sydney Literary Nonsense Poetry and Sky Mirror Poem

Hi, it’s Green. Great news from Sydney, where Grey seems to be having a fun time touring around the city. Here’s the latest two blogs from the Werewolf of Oz. It’s followed by a new Folding Mirror poem from our ol’ pal, Marc Latham on the fmpoetry site.

Dr. Watson and the Case of a Greycliffe House Mouse

We didn’t like the sound of Hunters Bay, so we headed over to the Sydney Harbour National Park, where I really liked the name of the headquarters and visitor centre: Greycliffe House.

Dr. Watson of Watsons Bay

Arriving at Greycliffe House, I was surprised to see that it was neither particularly grey nor built on a cliff.

I introduced myself to a gentleman there, and he told me his name was Dr. Watson of Watsons Bay.

I asked him why the house was called Greycliffe when it wasn’t a very good description. He apologised for not knowing, and said a man who probably would know, called Holmes, was off visiting some other homes for another inquiry at the moment.

The Greycliffe House Mouse

Not long after I’d thanked Dr. Watson and turned away,
in a triangular hall containing a square ball,
I was accosted by a small mouse of my colour grey.

It said its name was Cliff and the house was named after him,
I replied it was built in 1852 so how could that be true,
It said it was on a special diet and low-fat cheese kept it quiet.

I thought, Now, that’s nonsense.

The Barangaroo Kangaroo is Just a Short Hop or Two

It was getting late,
and I didn’t want to wait,
but the others were deep,
in conversation of sleep,
so I had forty winks,
and fourteen thinks.

The Barangaroo Kangaroo 

I was awoken by the others,
who said a lady named Carruthers,
and her five brothers,
were heading to Bronte‘s Wuthers,
and we could go along,
if we didn’t take too long.

So I jumped up, leaving twelve intellectual thoughts behind, and taking two nonsense ones along.  We ran to the beach, and got picked up soon after by a ferry taxi.

The captain was a kangaroo
who said it lived in Barangaroo.
Down on Darling Harbour,
south of Goat Island’s ardour.
Above Sydney aquarium’s
somewhat fishy delirium.

I thought, how convenient; and said that it must be nice living just a short hop or two from so many interesting places.

 

The Day of Double Eastern Delight

northern hemisphere amaranth again in morning
as our star lights up the sunrise horizon
constellations replaced by bright light
the sun rises into view

azure allure as orb wings westward

day’s gold sets in evening
Venus emerges with new darkening
but east does not turn sapphire to ebony
amaranth emerges once again reflecting sunset