Hot Pink Warriors Dreaming Women's Blouse by Koori Threads

This story celebrates our Deadly Warriors from right across the land. 

As the old Aunties sit and yarn, country touches their feet, and the stains of the red dirt surround them like the most beautiful shoes, as they sing.

It is quiet now, only the Aunties speak, the Men have gone now and our work here must go on

I sit there to watch and learn from the aunties, wondering how long they will wait for the men to come home, and what they will bring.

The days are long and hot, and time seems so long, that I easily forget the faces of our Warriors at times, then I hear their laughter, I hear them talking, faint & muffled but I can hear it

I jump to my feet as I see the dust stir, and llok out at the line of Men that have protected us for so long, here they some, I can hear their footsteps getting louder, I can see they are weary, but they are strong, and with them they bring much food for our village

As you walk quietly, you will meet many warriors along your way, as their voices can be heard in the wind

Wise, but humble, kind but strong our Warriors are our Strength, They are our Warriors, they are your Warriors, they are our Aboriginal Warriors