gracefatchen
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On Humour, Life and Literary Fools
One evening not that long ago, I drove home to the rolling notes of an old song, the glowering sunset behind building rain clouds and the dusty smell of oilskin about me. I reveled (quite pathetically) in the tragic air of… Continue reading
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UP THE CREEK WITHOUT A PADDLE
Inspired by a family trip up the Murray on a houseboat We kept a ‘ships log’ just for a joke. It listed departure times, and how many kilometres we were along the river. Occasionally, the deckhands would make observations about… Continue reading
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A PREMONITION
I hear the drums of war a-beating Upon these Southern shores, A sound this country once knew well And shall know again once more. Ushered in by Providence Or captured by Fate The drums of war are banging At the sliprails, at the gate. At… Continue reading
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THE WAY HOME
Born in the south, how could she leave it? That land of sunshine and wattle bloom, where the dusty summer evenings scented the world ruddy? Lifting his nose westward, he sniffed at the breezes – dry wheat, dust, rotten sunshine – such scents he caught… Continue reading
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THE SWORD AND THE TROWEL
An Allegory Long, long ago, a people came back to their own land after being away a long time. In the latter days, a foreign prince had come and carried them off to exile – to an unknown people and to… Continue reading
Grace Fatchen 