In a grassy paddock (pasture) aside a dusty red clay road

Well nigh o’er a century ago

A stone is placed upon another stone

- A church begins to grow.

Then stands there proudly,

all alone.

- A sacred heart for this working rural town.

Surrounded slowly by headstones carefully carved

by masons skilled, and proud.

- Sentinels left to guard bones and flesh; and memory,

of close knit family and precious friends, loved one’s true.

A sacred place of God and worship, a sacred place indeed. (Sacred soil)

Years pass by then business forces gather and pounce.

- An illogical decision is made.

Amidst these people, the cities power and gas,

and the precious water

A political decision is made.

"This the place

for and airport international."

"This where it will be - we must take the land

from the farming man,

we must knock the little church down."

The heritage of the land was raped,

But the little church stood strong.

And the Government took the land

from the common man - then let him rent it back.

whilst bureaucrats boiled and toiled

to knock the little church down.

- The pastor is a strong man

with pride and honour, and truth.

With passion he defended "the heart",

as he should,

for he was the Shepard of this church.

And the pastor’s hair was white now,

the stress had hurt his heart,

when Government forces struck a deal

- to relocate the church.

Stone by stone

the church came down;

the sacred graves were moved

- re-built in a different place,

And then for years and years

the paddocks just stood bare.

Whilst a malignant cancer grew behind,

and politics and greedy local "power men"

plotted and planned an airport;

hence to be more "rich".

- But they are blind.

- "Rich" is the white haired pastor,

who cares for the common man.

- Poor is the greedy man, with one and many zeros

in his precious bank account.

And thus the evil part, is added to this saga

as life has become ugly for Sydney around,

-would be for ever and more, if the airport should be built.

No matter how corrupt and wrong, all is,

the honest truth the power of right, is strong.

In a paddock out near Badgerys

a small stone church

stands proud.

And the sacred heart still beats strong.

P.J. Cork.

Jan - 1998.