How quickly the Qld floods are forgotten?

For our various levels of Govt. there are other priorities.

Raise the Warragamba dam wall???… thinking about that. Mitigate… Regulate..Write up a ‘Treaty’…Create a National ‘Voice’… Go ‘woke’.. get SCO MO!

We do have a long term plan – reduce flooding rainfall on the driest, hottest continent on Earth! ‘Change the Climate!!!’


Remember this?.

Welcome Strangers

When drought descends the Western Fall, there is no place to hide.

When thunderheads evaporate, and dry heat turns aside

attempts by men to stem the stream of mortal misery,

they steel their will and tailor ways to challenge history.


The ringers, farmers, cockies knew, from years of testing fate,

disaster strikes but once each year at any station gate.

One scorching summer scorned those odds – when all the west was dry –

the towns of central Queensland took a beating from the sky.


Those barren plains, the mocking rains, made dogged Drovers cry

when cattle-men from near and far had kissed the Wet Good-bye.

No way could they have ever known a storm like none before

would flood their dusty, arid land from Isa to the shore.


The first big falls for many months, when served up as a treat,

made grown men weep then celebrate how life could be so sweet.

They danced and laughed and joked about how high the creeks would flow,

not knowing, then, that rising tide was born to grow and grow.


The rain poured down, the rivers rose beyond recorded highs:

the Flinders breaking over banks caught locals by surprise.

For nine long days, the thunder rolled, the black clouds filled the sky,

a freezing wind the fatal blow to have the cattle die.


Knee-deep in mud the stock and horses suffered bitter cold.

The news emerged of thousands dead: the horror stories told

that large machines must now be used to clear each sordid mound

where cattle lay in huddled mobs – denied the higher ground.


The rain had gone, some roads were dry, the clear blue skies returned:

the ‘PM’ came to view the mess and think on all he’d learned.

He seemed aghast at damage caused, the rotting carcass smell,

the fences gone, the gates askew and roads all shot to hell.


The grievous tales, appalling sights, had brought the man to tears:

he felt so close to fractured lives, the worst he’d seen in years.

A dumb-struck bunch of farmers’ children stood beside their kin –

those kids have shown, they buoy their own, when rehab chores begin.


Objective surveys often show how rural people strive

for seven days in every week to make a business thrive.

At times like this, they are at risk when character is tried:

they need the Nation’s help to find their faith and inner pride.


We have a chance to do a job, to play a vital part,

where Aussie mateship bonds like glue to mend a broken heart,

where welcome strangers bend their backs and lend a willing hand

to help good people gather strength and resurrect their land.


Those distant towns, the farming class, when called, will roll their swag,

support a cause and lead the way to fly the Aussie flag.

The ‘Worldly Wise’ should understand that bounty cannot flow

when country regions are denied a true and just ‘Fair Go.’


Ross Rolley


In February, 2019, approximately 500,000 cattle were killed by catastrophic flooding across north Queensland’s Carpentaria Gulf plains.

The flood waters rose suddenly, forming a sea of water up to 70km wide. Record depths were reached along 500km of the Flinders River, submerging 25,000 square kilometres of country.

Published by Nelle

I am interested in writing short stories for my pleasure and my family's but although I have published four family books I will not go down that path again but still want what I write out there so I will see how this goes

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