Ian Grice is fast becoming a great bush poet.














Off to the trees with a bounding leap
Dingoes in hot pursuit,
Over the logs and the sink holes deep
Knows this familiar route

Strayed away from the sparse Roo fields
To graze in the fields below
Far from the safety of Roo mob shields
Lethal their sharp clawed toe

Panting she reaches the crest of hill
Glances behind in fear
Fluttering birds give a warning trill
Telling her danger’s near

Out of the scrub several male Roo race
Placing themselves in front
Claws at the ready they dingoes face
Giving a warning grunt

Dingoes slide to a dusty pause
Watch the retreating Roo
Glance at those terrible male Roo claws
Know what they have to do

Hunger has driven them on to try
Hunger exceeded fear
Seeing the warning in male Roo eye
Know there’s a conflict near

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