UNDERSTANDING SABBOATH

 © John R. Nolan 27/5/09  

Thanks for the responses to the article on the keeping of the Sabboath.
    There have been some positive and accurate thoughts expressed on Scripture, re denominational systems, which are anti Christ at their most fundamental level, and are fulfilling Rev.3:14-22, having replaced the original teachings with religious doctrines and dogma.

Denominationalism is the manifestation of the anti-Christ, as all denominations, in both Christian and Jewish religions, have added to, taken from and or personally interpreted Scripture, contrary to 2 Pet.1:20 “Knowing this first, that no prophecy of the Scripture is of any private interpretation.”
    Most Christians accept that prophecy, in this, the last age, is the preaching of the Word, as there are no more true prophets to the Gentiles. The only two prophets to the Gentiles were Paul and the brother who fulfills Mal.4:5-6. The two prophets yet to come, Moses and Elijah, Rev.11:3-13 are sent to Israel, in Jerusalem. Rev.11:3-12

The Gentile dispensation is over at that time and the bride has left the earth, in what is colloquially called “the rapture”.1Thes.4:15-16

Yes, some denominations teach this reference in Rev.11 applies to a “Spiritual Jerusalem,” but, without these teachers having any Biblical vindication, we can discard their comments as doctrines of devils.

Biblical vindication is the only true evidence that God is speaking, and the only gift which cannot be forged, perversely duplicated, is the discerning of the thoughts and intents of the heart, Heb.4:12 which has only been indisputably manifested in one ministry, since the time of Paul, that of William Marrion Branham.

There truly manifested this gift and that is the Voice to which Christians will listen.
    Sadly all denominations, including the 7th Dayists have put Christ outside their church and replaced Him with the doctrines and dogma of man. Rev.3:20.

That’s why we find Him on the outside, knocking on the door, seeking to be allowed back in, to take His rightful place of Headship.
    Are the readers familiar with Mal.4:5-6, Rev.10:1-7, Lk.17:30, and, if so, could you, or any other reader explain how these Scriptures are to be fulfilled, and when?

When are the Seals to be opened, who will do it?

Yes, we know it must be God, Christ, as He alone is worthy, but how and when does He do it? Without that taking place there can be no completion of the Gentile dispensation.

Amos3:7 “the Lord does nothing except He revealeth His secrets to His servants, the prophets.”

That does not qualify pastors, archbishops, popes, the tea lady nor any other self aggrandizing minister. God’s revelations have to be spoken through a prophet or God has told a lie.
    Also, would any reader show, in Scripture, where our Lord, Jesus the Christ, gave the 4th commandment in the New Testament, which is our, the Gentile church’s book? Or, for that matter, where bro. Paul instructed us to obey the Sabbath law?
   God advised us, the Gentiles, that before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord, the tribulation, He would return, open the Seven Seals, reveal all the mysteries of Scripture and call out His bride, for the catching away of 1Thes.4:15-16.

His bride does not go through the tribulation, and this, as all Scripture, must be fulfilled, or God is a liar, and that is impossible, as, “it is impossible for God to lie” Heb.6:18.

We could rave for any length of time endeavoring to prove the Sabbath, which is now, for the Gentile Bride, His rest, is already in place and has nothing to do with attending a building on Saturday or Sunday.

But, as we are instructed in Scripture, it is pointless getting involved in spurious debates over days, Sabbaths, feasts, meats, etc., so we present these thoughts which may clarify this matter, with hope there will be no further contention on this issue. Col.2:16-17
  

Christians are in His presence 24hours a day, 7days a week, and that is our rest, not being a member of some religiously oriented group. The Church is the body of Christ, Christ is the Word, Christ is God, and we, His bride, His children are in Him, are the manifestation, the witnesses of His Word being Word children, and are, Spiritually, no longer in the world.
   The Seven Seals were opened, as it is understood, by God, through a vindicated ministry, in 1963, but it appears 99% of those claiming to be Christians have refused to walk forward with the Light of this age, and have died in unbelief. “Strait is the gate and Narrow is the way, and few there be that find it.” Mt.7:14
  God’s revelation of Himself is a progressive event. He revealed Himself in His fullness in the body of Jesus the Christ, His Son.

That sounds rather selective, arrogant, superior, and it is, but our God is more a God of separation than of unity, which the Uniting church and all denominations are suggesting. 2Cor.6:17

 The mysteries of the Gentile dispensation were not revealed in that time as the Gentile dispensation had to be completed, so He can redeem and call out His Gentile bride.

Each church age, from the time of bro. Paul on had an ever increasing knowledge, understanding, revelation of the God with Whom we are deal. Paul told us we had to continue moving forward, not to stop, that there is an ongoing revelation which he, Paul, was not able to disclose at that time. Heb.5:9-14; 6:9-12

Each of the seven church ages saw a further revelation of Christ, until in this, the last age, God returns to earth, opens the Seals, reveals the mystery of the Godhead, calls out His Church for the rapture and brings judgement on the rest.
Hallelujah.
   It is appreciated the fervor of those seeking truth, but we find the Pharisees and Sadducees were absolutely sincere in fulfilling Scripture for their day, even though they were, according to Jesus, “of their father, the devil.”
  We are in a different age now; the judgement has already begun, as you are able to see about you. The world is falling apart, God is about to, if He hasn’t already, close the Door to the Gentiles and the Word will go back to Israel.
   Mal.4:5-6 was fulfilled, this writer believes. through the Ministry of, (not the man,) William Marrion Branham, 1908-1965, when Jesus Christ, God, not the flesh body, but the Spirit Who indwelt Him returned to earth to reveal the mysteries and call out His bride from the denominational chaos and apostasy.
  

Readers are encouraged to ‘come out of her my people,’ Rev.18:4, the great Whore who sits on seven hills, the Vatican, and her denominational daughters; daughters of Babylon, the pagan based cult of Rome.

I AM is now the revelation of the Bride of Christ and we encourage all who may read this document, to search the Scriptures, for it is far later than you think and God is now here, calling His children, His bride out of Laodicea back into His revealed Word for this day, as we are witness to the end of time, then end of this world, in this dimension.

KANGABIRDS

 WILD KANGABIRDS BOUNCE, YES THEY LIKE TO BOUNCE HIGH,
BECAUSE THEY HAVE BIG FEET THEY CAN’T REALLY FLY;
CONFINED TO THE PADDOCK, BUT FOR FRANTIC JUMPS,
ACROSS SCRUBBY GULLIES OR CLEAR FELLER’S STUMPS.

WONDERING IF THEY SHOULD FLY OR NOT BOTHER,
SCARED TO TRY ONE THING OR MAYBE ANOTHER,
TOO WORRIED THAT IF THEY SHOULD FLY THEY MIGHT FALL,
OR VANISH AWAY IN AN AFTERNOON SQUALL.

SOME KANGABIRDS LIKEWISE ARE REALLY NOT SURE,
IF THEY OUGHT TO FLY OR WALK ‘ROUND ON THE FLOOR.
THEIR FEET ARE MUCH TOO BIG, THEIR WINGS WAY TOO SMALL,
THEY LIKE BEING HIGH BUT ARE SCARED THEY MAY STALL.

BLUE KANGABIRD PARACHUTES SPOTTING THE SKY,
WOULD LOOK RATHER SILLY BUT YET THAT IS WHY,
THEY TAKE FLYING LESSONS FROM GREEN SEE THROUGH THINGS,
WHO HANG IN THE TREETOPS ‘TIL KANGABIRDS RING.

CALLING FOR HELP, WITH THEIR FLYING CHARADE,
TO GET SOME FREE LESSONS, IN AFTERNOON SHADE,
ON HOW TO GET AIRBORNE, WITHOUT TOO MUCH FUSS,
FLYING IS BETTER THAN CATCHING A BUS.

BIG KANGABIRDS ALL LONG TO FLY IN THE AIR,
CHASE HUGE JUMBO JET PLANES TO GIVE THEM A SCARE.
OR HOUND RUSSIAN ROCKETS OUT INTO DEEP SPACE,
HELP NEEBLES MOVE CLOUD BANKS ALL OVER THE PLACE.
 
PLAY WITH BALD EAGLES, ZOOM THROUGH THICK, GREY CLOUDS;
BOAST TO THEIR NEAR NEIGHBOURS WITH VOICES TOO LOUD,
ABOUT WHERE THEY’RE GOING TO, WHERE THEY HAVE BEEN,
OF FLYING ALL OVER,  AT ULTRA HIGH SPEED.

THESE TRAVELLING KANGABIRDS CAN MOVE THE BLUES,
THEIR LITTLE WINGS HELP THEM NOT WEAR OUT THEIR SHOES.
NEW SHOES ARE EXPENSIVE FOR SUCH GREAT BIG FEET,
SOME KANGABIRDS CAN FLY THE LENGTH OF THEIR STREET.

THEY DREAM OF ZOOMING FAST DOWN OVER THEIR TOWN,
FLYING INTO DEEP SPACE WHERE THEY CAN’T BE FOUND.
WAFTING, DRIFTING SLOWLY ON COOL SUMMER BREEZE,
KANGABIRDS WISH THEY COULD DO SO WITH EASE.

TO SOAR WITH BALD EAGLES SO HIGH IN THE AIR,
LARGE KANGABIRD FLOCKS IN FORMATIONS OF SQUARE;
ZOOMING IN DIVES, DOWN TO FREAK OUT THE NEEBLES,
KANGABIRD SQUADRONS PATROLLING THE REGIONS.

FLOATING ON SOFT WINDS, FAST SPYING OUT HUNTERS,
WARNING OF DANGERS, OR SHIFTS IN THE WEATHER.
OR START KANGABIRD FLIGHTS ALL OVER THE PLACE,
GALACTIC, CHEAP KANGABIRD FLIGHTS INTO SPACE.

THOUGHTS OF SUCH TYPE DO LURK IN KANGABIRD MINDS;
WILD TIME TRAVEL FANTASIES TRYING TO FIND,
NEW WAYS TO BE AIRBORNE, IN HIGH CLOUDS TO STAY,
DREAMING TO FLY HIGHER IN MUCH BETTER WAYS.

THEIR WEE, TINY WINGS WITH THOSE EXTRA BIG FEET,
HELP KANGABIRDS FLY IN A DESPERATE LEAP.
LIKE KANGABIRD DREAMS, THEY SOON FLOAT TO THE PEAT,
BUT THEY NEVER GIVE UP, NOR ADMIT DEFEAT.

NO, NEVER SURRENDER, DON’T EVER GIVE IN,
NO MATTER HOW HARD, KANGABIRDS PLAN TO WIN.
TO LEARN HOW TO FLY, SOAR HIGH INTO THIN AIR,
UNLESS YOU BELIEVE YOU WON’T GET ANY WHERE.

YOUNG KANGABIRDS LEARN TO ENJOY LOTS OF THINGS,
RIPE MANGOES, COCONUTS AND PINEAPPLE RINGS;
BUT THEY NEVER ANSWER WHEN PINEAPPLES CALL,
IN CASE THEY FALL DOWN OR BOUNCE INTO A WALL.

THEY LIVE IN THE OUTBACK, A LONG WAY AWAY,
FROM ‘HEYWHEREAREYOU’ AND THEY CAME IN TODAY,
GOING TO SAM’S PARTY, AT THE PEOPLE ZOO,
YOUNG ONES WORE BRIGHT RIBBONS OF RAINBOWZEE HUE.

TO HELP CELEBRATE SAM’S GREAT EIGHT YEAR OLD KNEES,
THOSE KANGABIRD FEET HELP THEM GET THERE WITH EASE.
HUGE FEET HELP THEM FLY IN A KIND OF A WAY,
THAT’S HOW THEY TRAVELLED HERE FOR SAM’S KNEE’S BIRTHDAY.

TO LOOK AT THE PEOPLE, LET LITTLE ONES SEE,
THAT FREEDOM IS BETTER THAN CAPTIVITY;
THAT NOT HAVING KNEES IS NO MAJOR DEFEAT,
BECAUSE THEY HAVE SMALL WINGS, AND EXTRA BIG FEET.

THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY

On Tuesday Harry Hunter, was fishing from his yacht,

Drifting slowly off Bribie, planning to catch alot,

Of mackerel, fresh whiting, large bream, schnapper and squid,

For a scrumptious dinner, whilst saving himself a quid[1]

Harry has not cottoned on that Charles is out there too,

Planning to nab H. Hunter then beat him black and blue.

Charles had swum out earlier to wait beneath the waves,

For a chance to trash Hunter, it’s all that Charlie craves.

He watched Hunter’s boat drift close, watched where he cast his line,

Swam around to start the game, to catch Harry this time.

Chomps-EM grabbed the hook attached to Harry’s fishing line,

Swam under the Hunter’s boat, a wild scheme in his mind

Dug the huge hook in thehullof Harry’s wooden yacht,

Yanked the fishing line fast, hard, gave Hunter a great fright.

His trusty reel screamed, smoke flew out, from fast running line,

 Harry thought; ‘This is a monster fish I’ve got this time.

Might be a whopping Finance Shark, or a Banker Whale,

I’ll tow in toSandgatewharf, to weigh up on their scales.

Could be a world record, this monster I’m bringing in;’

Not knowing the culprit is, ausmie, Sir Charles Chomps-EM.

Who swam out rather early, to wait for Harry there,

Chased all other fish away, to trap the Hunter there

Harry doesn’t understand he has just caught his yacht;

Charlie laughed beneath the waves, he laughed and laughed a lot.

As Brave Harry fought the giant fish he thought he’s caught,

Sharp hook dug deeper in thehull, of his wooden boat.

Chomps-EM watched, rejoicing, as polished steel hook tore more;

Hunter’s high speed reel flashed ‘round, fast leaving no ground floor.

 Fearless Harry won’t release this fish he thinks he’s got,

Charles Chomps-EM enjoyed watching young Harry wreck his yacht.

Rod bending, line taught as taught, fighting fish he thought he’s caught;

Harry hasn’t realized that the hook is in his boat.

Each yard of line he wound in, ripped out a bit more floor,

Charles was laughing gleefully as Harry tore out more;

To watch Hunter catch himself is really a great joke,

It won’t be much longer until Harry has no boat.

Hunter will plunge beneath the waves, into the foam flecked sea,

Chomps-Em would hunt him to the beach, take him home for tea.

The tear in Harry’shullincreased, with each fast reel spin;

Too late Harry discovered ocean is pouring in.

Jumped aboard his life raft, his life jacket tight and sure,

Set off rescue beacon, started rowing for the shore.

Harry had the rescue gear smart sailors surely keep;

In case they may get ship wrecked, or lost, in the deep.

Charles shot up from underneath, tipped raft end over end,

When Harry spotted Charles, he did not try to pretend,

Charles was there to rescue him, like some good, long lost friend.

The hunter’s flippers hit top speed, to escape from him.

Poor Charles, puffed from laughing, could no longer hack the pace,

Like Ian Thorpe, Hunter shot through, for some safer place.

Harry left Charles way behind, he cut through rolling waves,

Charles gave up his hot pursuit, his energy to save.

Harry has escaped once more, he finally reached land,

He swore to get Charlie back, but, do you think he can?

---

[1] Quid: slang term for one pound, in original Australian currency

LION TAMER pt. 2

Last Tuesday night the family rang, to give me bad news,

The Lion I trained for them is eating people’s shoes.

Eating those old and worn out shoes, most folk will not condemn,

But shoes this Lion munches still have their people in them.

Quickly I jumped onto my ‘trike and hurried ‘round to see,

To ensure I had taken training steps, one, two and three.

When Lion saw me coming, he charged at me real fast,

Knocked me right off my tricycle, I thought I’d breathed my last.

I saw he was determined to fight with me to the end;

I struggled bravely to my feet, my life to now defend.

The Lion circled carefully, looking for his big chance,

To catch me unawares and charge, then he began to prance.

As Lions do when they’re convinced that they are going to win,

Convinced I’d be his supper, he slurped his mouth and chin.

I circled also watching him and started to get mad,

To think this Lion I had trained has soon gone oh, so bad.

Such things have never happened, with the others I have trained,

Some how I missed a step, to reprogram his brain

One step from in my manual, for training Lions true;

As we circled, warily, I thought, it was step two.

I saw one of the shoes he’d chewed and grabbed it off the ground,

I wanted it for evidence; I did not make a sound.

Lion watched me so carefully; I saw doubt in his looks,

He saw I wasn’t scared of him, like all those other blokes.

Who tried to train him earlier, but all of them had stalled,

Now Lion knew he faced the best, the toughest of them all.

When Lion was about to spring, his hair and hackles rose,

Quickly I leapt upon his neck and biffed him on the nose;

I slipped the chain around his neck and threw him to the ground,

Then put one foot on either ear to hold this Lion down.

I gently tickled Lion’s nose, a few times with a stick;

Told him that if he struggled more, next time I’d use a brick.

I got an empty sandshoe, (devoid of folk in it;)

Stuck it over Lion’s nose, that sandshoe ponged now, didn’t it?

A stained, sweat smelly child’s sandshoe, once used for basketball,

It only took about four sniffs, ‘til Lion fought no more.

I tied his feet together just to hobble him for sure,

Tied his long chain around a post, the crowd yelled out ‘Encore!’

Then Charmianne brought out some tea, with very tasty cakes;

I slumped down there to catch my breath and wait ‘til Lion wakes.

Eventually that Lion woke, after a few minutes,

He knew that he was for it, before this tale’s finished.

I waved the sandshoe in his face, he quickly turned away,

I told him that his time is up, there’s no more room to play.

From here on he need toe the line and not be such a twit,

Or else there’ll be sand shoes for tea, for breakfast, lunch and it,

Will be this way for many days, until he understands,

That Lions are as putty, in this Lion tamer’s hands.

LION TAMER 1

I’m here to tell a story of a job I had to do,

To save a little Lion from a life trapped in a zoo.

Or working for a circus, {that’s a job which Lions hate,}

Carted around from town to town, up here or interstate.

 A lady who lived near at hand, she had this Lion, true,

A wild and tawny monster, she had gotten from a zoo.

Her children were no problem, they were mostly quite and tame,

But Lion he is dangerous, he needed to be trained.

 Already he has torn apart three hoses and some trees,

The children fear soon he may start to chew on people’s knees.

They sought a Lion tamer, who’s bold, most brave and free,

They called the Lion Tamer’s Guild, who recommended me.

 A Lion tamer tough and mean, without the slightest fear,

Someone who’ll get this Lion trained in less than half a year.

Indeed in less than just one month, I’ll tame this violent beast,

Convert him to a gentle lamb; I’ll do it in a week.

 Sunday night the family rang to ask me if I could,

They said “This Lion’s dangerous.” and asked me if I would;

Already other trainers had taken the beast away,

To break his stroppy spirit, but they brought him back next day.

 He is too wild and dangerous, for them to tangle with,

I am this Lion’s final hope; she said I’ll need a whip.

I told her, “Do not be silly, I fear no beast at all.

Tough Lions are my specialty, on Wednesday I will call.

To tame this vicious Lion, and so prove to all the world,

That when it comes to Lion, I’m the greatest of them all.

On Wednesday afternoon at three, I called to meet the beast,

To give him his first lesson, I now only had a week.

Or lose my reputation, which is really now quite tall,

The Lion tamer with no fear, no fear in him at all.

He spotted me and then he charged, to run would mean defeat,

I calmly looked him in the eye, and loudly ordered, ‘SIT!’

 He stopped, looking most puzzled, then he snarled and charged again,

I pirouetted, grabbed his ear, slipped on his training chain.

That mighty, tawny Lion, didn’t know just what to do,

I told him to sit down or else I’ll beat him black and blue.

He snarled and lashed out with a paw, claws pointed, sharp as tacks,

I ducked this lethal, speeding strike, this wild Lion attack;

I told him to lie down or else I’ll stick him in a sack;

His time has come to learn some rules, to walk another track.

I pulled the chain tight ’round his neck; I yanked it hard and quick;

Held him so close he couldn’t move, yelled again, loudly, “SIT!”

He growled, a throaty rumble that would terrify most folk,

I bopped him lightly on the nose, told him, “You are a joke.”

“Lions I’ve trained for many years, don’t play your silly games,

I’ve seen most fancy Lion tricks, their moves are all the same;

Don’t think that you can fool me with your cunning little ploys,

Behave or else I’ll have you turned into a fluffed, stuffed toy.”

 I slowly reached toward him, hand stretched out to pat his nose,

Told him he had nothing to fear, that he was very close;

To a new life of luxury, if he played his cards right,

Three meals a day, somewhere to play, a soft bed every night.

 From there the job was easy and by Thursday it was done,

Now Lion’s trained and friendly, a mild beast who’s lots of fun.

He still lives with the family; he’ll walk at heel, at call,

More proof this Lion tamer is the greatest of them all.

 

THE UMBRELLA MACHINE ATTACK

  Sinister, creeping, soft shoes of rubber,

Lurking in shadows, cringing for cover;

Come three strange figures, of Various Shapes,

Wearing weird costumes, with long, flowing capes;

 Sneaking through camouflaged jungles of green,

Oozing, toward the Umbrella Machine;

Stealthily, so softly, silent as night,

Disguised, in dark glasses, quite out of sight.

 Each of them carrying large, furry bags,

Zipped on the top with five odd looking flags;

Flying in late afternoon, summer breeze,

Pegs on noses to protect them from Snees,

Neebles may hear, working on umbrellas.

Making ‘brollies, for changeable weather,

To keep AUSMIES dry, with portable shade,

Waterproof moggie skin, tortoise and jade.

 “You know, we must wreck this naughty machine.”

Said Shape A to the others, who both agreed;

“We have little time; we have to be quick,

Or else they may find us, before we trick,

This naughty machine, with false information,

Fill its hard drive, with dubious data;

Cause it to burn out by trying to make,  

Umbrellas of concrete, or marble cake;”

“Brollies of marble cake are edible,

We’ll need make more brollies, that they may fill;

Tummies of AUSMIES, of every kind,

Who eat ‘brollies, for dessert; when it’s fine.”

 Stated a Shape, as he gnawed on a lump,

Of portable tree, a take away stump;

Which many Shapes chew, whenever there’s time,

To ward off the ‘munchies,’ help them to rhyme;

Thoughts into patterns they keep, in their mind,

To go with their sandshoes, attempts to find,

Ways to destroy the Umbrella Machine,

Neebles have stashed, in deep jungles of green.

Still they crept on, through hanging Lawyer vines,

Hiding in shadows, slow, taking their time;

Heading to noises they could now hear,

Noises grew louder, they knew they were near.

Closer Shapes drew, to the ‘brollie machine,

Mumbling mysteries, of their sneaky scheme;

“What do you think’s the best way to break it

One asked of other, “How will we wreck it?”

“Our time of attack is getting quite close,

We can now remove, the pegs from our nose.

If Neebles spot you, pretend you’re a Thing,

They may not notice, that we don’t have wings.”

 “Just show them your bag, say you’re here to fix,

The Porticule Whatsits with Umbrella sticks.

To service keyboard or tune computer,

So Umbrellas will come out, looking cuter.”

 “But don’t tell them lies, for that isn’t nice,

Say we’ve been called in, to give them advice,

On making ‘brollies, in much better ways,

They’ll never suspect, we’ve come here to change;

 The monstrous, mighty Umbrella Machine,

Wreck it, with cunning, is our nasty scheme.

Stop Neebles making, moggie skin brollies,

To put a stop, to great ‘brolly follies.”

Who are these Shapes, why do they now scheme,

To ruthlessly wreck, the Umbrella Machine?

Where have they come from and what do they want,

Are Shapes foreign agents, from umbrella shops?

 A long way away, somewhere overseas,

Planning to wipe out Aussie expertise?

Or are they mean hunters planning to catch,

Neebles, while working, to produce a batch

 Of dried moggie brollies, AUSMIES can use,

Protecting noggins and AUSMIE skin shoes.

From falling water, which soggies their brain,

AUSMIES enjoy walking ‘round in the rain.

 Though Things find it damp, because of the wet,

That’s why they like ‘brollies, so they don’t get,

Dampened with water, soaked up to their knees,

Another good reason Things don’t go to sea.

 Will the Umbrella Machine soon be wrecked?

Will Neebles wake up, to this sneak attack?

Will Nerdlee Neeble detect this slick plan?

To foil these mean Shapes, do you think he can?

 

                                

HERMAN THE BLACKSMITH

Herman the Blacksmith sat quietly,

His anvil at peace on the bench,

Tools used to cobble and fix shoes,

Now silently having a rest.

 Herman is patiently waiting,

On ideas for new, special shoes,

For species of Ausmies who do,

Not like to leave footprints or clues.

Of where they’ve been, or now go,

Instead to leave tracks that aren’t true,

To flusterate Harry Hunter,

Who wants to put Ausmies in zoos.

Chomps-EM is looking for new shoes,

To replace the ones he wears,

So he can fool any hunter,

Escape mean traps and avoid snares.

Chomps-EM starred in some great movies,

True stories of how he escaped,   

From Harry, the mean, cruel hunter,

Who’s chased Charles, all over the place.

 Hunter, hunter, is quite nasty,

He traps Ausmies of most every type;

Sells them to zoos in the Southland,

Or further away as he might.

Worse still for the Ausmies unsold,

If they have soft, smooth shiny skins,

Harry removes their neat coats which,

He sells for shoes, handbags and things.

Surely most painful for Ausmies,

Worse still they’re exposed to cold;

Hideless-ness can lead to sunburn,

Bad rays, which pour in, through the holes.

Left by those rockets man shoots up,

Which litter vast space now with junk;

Madness mankind has discarded,

As we mess up all that we touch.

Space holes that cannot be back-filled,

Now let Ultra violet rays in,

Warmingus way, way too hotly,

Cruel burning the bare Ausmie’s skins.

Charles came around to see Herman,

Hoping he can make some new shoes,

Treads to ensure that Hunter thinks,

That Sir Charles Chomps-EM has now moved.

For Charlie’s older style footprints,

Are never again to be seen;

Charles wants some fancy new footwear,

With treads that leave footprints of green.

 Herman designed slick jungle shoes,

For Ausmies from way over there;

Who lodge their orders by E–Mail;

From Herman, in multiple pairs.

Herman stands quiet, thinking deeply,

In case he may disturb himself,

Workingout waysto make new shoes,

To help Charlie Chomps-EM escape.

Like his Two Way Shoes for Ausmies,

Who plan to stay cool, wild and free;

Avoiding Hunter’s mean planning,

To trap and send them overseas.

But Herman Blacksmith’s forgotten,

How to make shoes that leave green,

Footprints wherever you may run,

All over grass to be seen.

Footprints to fool Harry Hunter,

What can Herman now make for Charles?

Maybe some see through Galooshers,

Or wooden, reversible Snarles.

Knowing that Chomps-EM has six feet,

Herman pointed toes different ways,

Hoping that because they’re so thick,

All hunters will be quite amazed.

With each direction now covered,

By those wearing Herman’s new shoes,

Hunters will walk round in circles,

Befuddled and highly confused.

Will Herman’s shoes be the way to?

Help Charles and Ausmie mates escape?

These questions Ausmies are asking,

How long for answers must we wait?

As Herman sits in his shoe shop,

Thinking out ways to make new shoes

In styles the Ausmies have need of,

To avoid zoos or becoming shoes.

TWO WAY SHOES

Down on the farm where tall Woollybutts grow,

Lambs bend bananas while chickens knit snow.

One Monday morn at that time of the week,

There’s much hilarity down by the creek.

 Herman Blacksmith trims some ticklish hooves,

Of many AUSMIES with old, worn out shoes.

Waiting for fittings with new High Speed Rims,

So they’ll run faster like AUSMIES with wings.

 Faster than Kangabirds ever can go,

Big Feet and small wings cause them to go slow.

Herman helps AUSMIES to run ‘round and ‘round,

In paddocks and pastures, all over town.

 They run ‘round and ‘round but only one way,

Noses point forward, whenever they play.

When running quickly to get there on time,

Because running backwards is hard to try.

Nerdlee Neeble was out, strolling along,

Catching a breeze and singing a sweet song,

A Waterproof Warbler’s afternoon tune,

Nerdlee was cruising, playing a tuned spoon.

When out of bush leapt a hooped Hunter net,

Thrown deftly in a sly attempt to get,

This slow walking Neeble, take him away,

To Alma Park Zoo, put him on display.

Nerdlee jumped left, rapidly he swerved right,

Took off with speed from this nasty, big fright.

Running like crazy, to quickly escape,

Wishing that he could hide tracks on the way.

He thought of the New Shoes Herman now sold,

Shoes that go backwards without leaving holes;

Of where you have been or where you may went,

He wished he had bought some, at Herman’s tent.

Herman advertised these newTwo WayShoes,

For fooling hunters if one should pursue,

AUSMIES, to catch him, or her, as maybe;

To turn into shoes, or send overseas.

 Right now Nerdlee Neeble was wishing he,

Had purchased reverse shoes to help him flee,

From Harry Hunter, now chasing him fast,

WithTwo WayShoes Nerdlee could run straight past;

 Harry the Hunter who would never see,

The way young Nerdlee’s now able to flee;

These newTwo WayShoes are definitely cool,

If Nerdlee escapes he’ll getTwo WayShoes.

To help him elude mean hunters, and then,

Tell all his mates of escape ‘round thebend;

By running two ways both at the same time,

A wonderful scheme to flee Harry, climb;

Up into a tree where Neebles can hide,

As hunters run past fast trying to find,

AUSMIES running quickly to get away,

Right now Nerdlee wished he could go both ways.

Back to the story, why you are now here,

Leaving from the plug Herman wants you to hear;

About Two Way Shoes and how they should be,

Kept on the shoe rack of every AUSMIE.

Running ‘round backwards will help you escape,

From Harry Hunter and his nasty mates;

Who seeing new footprints surely will be,

Confused by the way the AUSMIES now flee.

 

They’d not be sure if they went either way,

Forward or backward or maybe they stayed,

Standing inone placepretending to be,

Chickens, sandshoes, or some strange looking trees.

 

Herman the Blacksmith trims ticklish hooves,

Fitting them out with his newTwo WayShoes;

Hoping that one day these AUSMIEs will see,

That running both ways will help them stay free.

 

 

 

 

BY THE FUNNY GREEN TREE

As I rode through the scrub on my Quad,  

In a clearing there, what did I see?

A whopping big, bronze flying saucer,

Hidden beneath the Funny Green Tree.

It looked like a bright, glowing turtle,   

With most strange coloured lights on its side;

Its four legs looked way, way too skinny;

“My, that is pretty weird” [1]qualked the Quad.

I grabbed my waddy, gave him a whack,

On his head, to make sure it still works.

He fell to ground, with a funny sound,

Sam Snoozle whispered, quiet, “Look at that!”         

Out the side door came five little Things,

Floating, flying, on strange see through wings;

Odd coloured, shaped and looking quite mean.

Walking on air, a very bad dream.

 Snoozle said “Twit, the Quad you just hit,

Was our only sure means of escape.”

I whacked him too, for saying what’s true,

Then slipped into mycapeand my hat.     

Sam woke up quick; his head’s pretty thick, 

A dreamer who is rather silly. 

Said “That wasn’t nice, pass me the ice,

Is there time to boil up the billy?”                                                                 

I said “Wake the Quad, with a sharp prod,

It’s no time for him to be sleeping.

We’d best away, lest we’re in a fray,

Or then we all three may be grieving.”

 When down under the Funny, Green Tree,       

It’s amazing the things you may see; 

 AUSMIES at play, that vanish away,     

It’s a wondrous, weirdly place to be.

Quad found his feet, where they used to be,

A short distance, below his four knees.

Ready to speed, when they need escape,

Our feet really can help One, Two, Flee.             (Ancient bad Chinese joke!)

Here we were stuck, too far from our bus,

The thick bush now quieter than silence.

Five little Things, floating, on clear wings,

Toward us, looking rather violent.

 Snoozle moaned loud, and sank to the ground,

The Quads knees were castanets dancing;

Clicking and clacking, though standing still,

The five funny Things kept advancing.

Closer they drew, on wings you see through,

Soundless on soft afternoon breezes.

Hiding in panic, (Italian grass,)

Both feet locked in terrified seizure.

The leading Thing stopped, tickled the Quad,

Calmed him in about half a moment;

Picked Sam Snoozle up, dusted him off,

Said, “Hallo, we’re happy to meet you.”

That’s the tale of one fantastic day,

When we met the Things come from Somewhere;

There’s more to tell, but I heard abell,

Dinner time, so I guess we’ll leave it.

Though there’s much more to say, of how we went away,

In their spaceship, if you’ll believe it.”  

 

 

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[1] QUALKING is how Quadmaropogii communicate

FRILL NECK JOE

In the wild outback, where Humpydongs sprong,

Rare three tone Warblers sing their strange songs;

By Lazy creek, watching bunyips grow,

Sits super fast Ausmie, Frillneck Joe.

Having short legs, he lives near the dirt,

With a long, blue tongue, used as a quirt;

For catching Buzzies, low flying Gneeds,

To chomp, with his dinner, of sun flower seeds.

Plus lots of fresh lettuce, vegetable weeds,

To keep up his frill neck, and his high speed;

For catching fast Runner Beans, trying to flee,

From Joe’s coming lunch, he’s hungry you see.

 Why is Joe hungry, so hungry today?

‘Cause he’s run, long and hard, to get away,

From a weird, new Ausmie, nightmarish dream,

With a see through body, that can’t be seen.

Just big shiny Teeth, which look very sharp;

Like those you find, in a giant White Shark.

Or maybe a mean, untamed Killer Thnail;

This unknown thing was hot on Joe’s tail.

 It kept Joe running, with ultra high speed,

From daybreak ‘til late, with no chance to feed;

Through paddocks, mulga, thin gullies and scrub,

To elude this Ausmie, whatever it was.

Ran through the donga, of some sleeping bloke,

Bold Harry Hunter, who rapidly woke;

Jumping up fast, in a panicky bent,

Whacked his bald head, on the beam of his tent.

This holds leaf cover, whenever it rains,

But, when head butted, it causes some pain.

Harry yelled, “Ouch!” grabbed his large, purple sack,

Pulled out his waddy, with which to fight back;

But Frillneck was gone, before he could use,

His waddy, or even, put on his shoes.

Frillneck kept running, at extra high speed,

To escape this monstrous set, of sharp Teeth.

When Harry looked ‘round; he got a large fright,

A huge set of Teeth, smiled out of the night.

He pulled his Crocobat out of his sack,

To show those Teeth where brave Harry is at;

A Hunter hero, with never one fear,

Intrepid, brave Harry fast hit first gear.

A [1]bloke incredibly quick, on his feet,

Then Harry took off, with fantastic speed.

That huge set of Teeth, they grinned all the while,

Harry caught Frillneck, in less than a [2]mile.

Then stopped, he and Joe, to regroup their cool;

Ponder those Choppers, which appeared to drool.

 “Hey, Harry,” asked Joe “You reckon we’re free,

Of that Big set of Teeth; what could they be?

Have we escaped, is it lost in our smoke?

Do you reckon it’s just a practical joke?

Pulled by Sam Snoozle, to give us a scare,

It freaked me out; is it near, anywhere?

‘Cause big shiny Teeth are not what I like,

To see in day time, but worse still at night;”

 “Gave me a shock, seeing something like that;”

Harry replied, as he took off his hat.

Got out some mangoes; for them both to eat;

Big, Bowen mangoes are juicy and sweet.

“Yes, maybe Sam Snoozle’s behind those Teeth;

Or could be the Quad, with his cousin, Pete;

Trying to panic us into some trap;

Some flash new gizmo, to give us a Zappp!”

 Said Harry, bewildered, then Joe yelled, “Beware

’Cause all of those Teeth are hanging right there;

Behind you, it caught us, will it eat us, oohhhhh.”

The huge set of Teeth grinned and called, “Hallo.”

 “Gosh, you blokes run fast, you gave me a scare,

Thought maybe you’d seen some big monster out there;

I took off real quick, to get away too,

But each time I caught up, you blokes shot through.”

Then Harry and Joe laughed, near fit to burst,

They said, “When we saw you we thought the worst;

That you’re the monster, that’s why we shot through,

For Huge, Shiny Teeth are something quite new.

What are you really, where do you come from?

Are there many like you, did they come along?

Come, share a mango; let’s talk for a while;

Tell us about you.”  “O.K,” said the Smile.”

 

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[1]           Bloke: slang term for male person

[2]           Mile: linear measurement, approx. 1 and 3/8 km.