What I did on my holidays

What I did on my holidays

By Chris Borthwick

After blanketing two nations
With a swathe of presentations
Rose came home with little patience
Needing some time off the clock:
So to build up her bonhomonie
I signed her up for an Astronomy
(And sightseeing and gastronomy)
Weekend at Ayers Rock.

I had made the whole arrangement -
A prescription for derangement
And a cause of some estrangement
On the trip to Field of Light,
Where the hostess was insistent
That our absence from her list meant
That our booking, while existent,
Was for quite another night.

Rose wallowed deep in sorrow
Till the advent of the morrow
Brought astronomers to follow
And infusions of caffeine:
And several days of lectures
Would effectively infect us
With incredible perspectives
And authority to dream.

Outside, we apprehended,
Were the southern plains extended,
But inside the vision splendid 
Of the everlasting stars -
Though everlasting’s a misnomer --
With black holes and quantum foam a
Final ending was gone over
In the coffeeshops and bars.

We had rather more than two tries
Seeing Uluru at sunrise,
The whole idea was unwise
As the cloud obscured its face;
But who could feign abhorrences
As moisture fell in torrentses
In waterfalls on foreigners
Assembled at its base?

Beneath the Olga’s towers
We walked happily for hours
Viewing unexpected flowers
In the unexpected rain:
We felt our withered souls expand
Like puffballs in the desert sand,
Rose blossomed like the desert[1] and  
We’d gladly go again.

---

[1] Mind you, she still has worries –
take number one, for starters:
I mucked up the photos, and
she wants my guts for garters.

Myself, hey, what’s the problem?
I put it to you, chaps:
Which would you rather – Clancy,
or the Banjo’s outback snaps?