Ian Findlay

Mildura, Australia

I am a third generation Australian of Anglo-Scottish descent.  I was raised in the country outback of Northern Victoria.   My main career has been the Victorian Police Force and managing my own business over a thirty year period during which I was admitted as an Associate Fellow of the Australian Institute of Management.  I have a consuming passion for classical poetry, am a reader of the Liberal Arts, have a great interest in theology and philosophy and have an abiding love for classical music.  I am a member of the Lutheran Church of Australia.  I have known success and failure; have know influence and the need to work as a laborer.  It is out of this life and experience that my poems are written.   I am at present preparing an anthology of about 190 poems as well as preparing a book of hymns I have written are being put to both great classical music and my own compositions.  I have had poems published for special occasions by local newspapers and three poems published in International poetry anthologies.

A Word From The Odyssey

Ulysses, the great spirit has told,
Never tarry so long to grow old:
Weigh anchor, sail to the new,
Live life before it is through.

Caution and Fear leave behind!
Cast off, while there's still time to find
Verdant rain forests, mountains so high,
Uncharted waters where riches lie.

All aboard the schooner called Thought,
She adventure and courage have bought,
Now take no account of a failing frame,
For a new world is calling your name.

Our schooner sails with the evening tide,
Then trims her sails for the ocean wide
Her yardarm will bend, her timbers strain,
A motley crew sings a youthful refrain.

For around the fire they sit no more,
To listen by the hour to the local bore,
Beneath flying clouds and watery moons,
Cold misty dawns and the sea swell at noon.

Walking in cities with people unknown,
Climbing high peaks of the giant eagle's hone,
Palm covered islands with sandy shores,
Tutored by a sage of a great ancient law.

At the end of each day when the anchor falls,
The crew meets the officers in the galley hall,
It's drinks all around, long tales ever told,
As the oil lamps flicker on these mariners bold.

They share till late the voyage to date,
A smoke and a run with a new found mate,
Then sleep in the bunk in the long galley hall,
Where they wait for the bell of their duty call.

None can tell where this voyage can end;
Will the elements and time some day extend?
Tempestuous storms that black out the light,
They crash on the reef in the darkest night.

Memory, intellect and myth now remain,
Buildings, commerce and pride will wane;
Will the gods clap their hands where mortals fought
On this vessel that faith and courage have bought?

Remembrance Day

This day the world remembers,
The eleventh day has come,
The eleventh hour is here,
The clanging tramcar silent,
Town and city hushed and still'
Eager shoppers halt, then pause
One minute, the world with reverence fills.

Children in their playgrounds,
The students in the hall,
They paused for a moment,
The glorious dead recall;
A widow stops to wipe a tear,
A mother grieves for lost ones dear,
While old veterans just remember.

Small children stand around the shrines,
The old just bow their heads,
When a million youthful faces gone,
Appear afresh with beaming eyes
And careless step and laughing hearts,
Stand to as last reveille blows,
Then back to the ages they must go.

How soon the world returns,
The clanging tram and running feet,
Shining autos ply their way,
Crowds are rushing to and fro,
Wreath the flower watch alone
These silent ones of yesteryear
And sadly wait for next year's tears.