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  A Compendium of Poems.              Under the mallee bough,                 Across the quiet waters,              Blended with cries of river birds,                 We hear our ancestral voices . . .                                                           A compendium of poems.                                               ( Sponsored by : The Scriveners Review.)     [Page One] My little window on the Western Wall. My little window on the western wall, Opens out on the whole wide world. It opens out on the mallee plains, It opens out to the summer rains. It opens out on a sonorous dawn, With it’s promising colours in pastel tones. And embraces within all sorrows and joys, In silent parade past my western wall. Flowers of Spring as the seasons go, Winter wild, Summer mellow. Fields below the farmer sows, Crops in serried paddock rows. A child cries out! A strange bird s
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  A Small Pebble.   A small pebble. I crossed the Murray this morning…the Mighty Murray River…on the ferry at Swan Reach and I picked up a stone from the one side, carried it across on the ferry and placed it on the other side. I did it because of a story my mother told me years ago that I just remembered as I drove up to the ferry… My mother grew up near the river. She worked as a house-maid at both Punyelroo and Portee stations near Swan Reach before and during the second World War. Many times she was called to accompany the Lady of the House to cross the river on a flat-topped punt, used for ferrying supplies across the river there at the station. She told me of an old German hand there at Portee who, whenever he had to cross the river, would pick up a small stone, a pebble, carry it across and place it on the other side….my mother asked him why he did it….he was at first reluctant to tell her..but she persisted… “Well, girlie”…( that’s what they all
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  Memories of the early days of Mannum district. (These several “recollections” were contributed with thanks, by Helen Tuxford).   Lost Innocence by Dean Frahn. My first school was the Cross Roads Primary School, 8km east of Mannum, which I first attended in 1948. This school closed down two years later, and the school bus then collected all the children and transported us to the "big" school of Mannum Higher Primary. Suddenly we were bereft of our innocence — the most startling change being that we had to wear shoes to school and instead of 14 of us there were 500. The little school was like home away from home as all the children of the seven grades were in one room and the older ones cared for the little ones, just as they would have done at home. There "amenities" were minimal. No electricity, no running water, no flush toilet, no paving, no nothing really. But we were happy, really happy, and our teacher, a Miss Davies, was just so beautiful and kind
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