The sound of those horse hoofs in surround sound, I have never forgotten.
Or the twins, who were not speaking – Harrison living in high cotton.
Spur, striking gold, and giving Jim’s dad’s share to him.
Man from Snowy River has so much romance and vim!
Jim Craig at eighteen, falling completely in love with Jessica, of course.
Helping her break her prize colt, a persnickety, proud, determined horse.
Twin brothers falling in love with one woman, a romantic back story.
Jim chasing the Brumby mob down a steep hill, not seeking big glory.
I found myself rooting for Spur, glad when he found the gold.
Naturally, the love story part of this western will never get old.
This is such a lovely tale, a die and go to heaven story of its day.
I cannot help thinking of all the characters in a loving way.
Categories:
brumby, horse,
Form: Rhyme
The brumby of Australia, not known to be well bred
Some are tough as leather, but that not often said
More criticised that praised, for damage that they do
Muddying the waterholes, as cattle never do
The biggest problem that they have, their wish to have a roll
Find some nice clean water, then muddy up the hole
They will get to station horses, the mares have foul breed foals
The quality completely gone, and fences torn to holes
The stockman love to muster them, the wildest of the rides
Chase them way along the flat, and down the mountain sides
But we also have a saying, and is so very true
You should never kill a good horse, as some brumby chasers do
So though it is so very sad, we have to thin them out
We can only breed fine horses, if no brumbies are about
Your life depends on stamina, and full trust in your mount
It is your horse that saves your life, more times than you can count
Categories:
brumby, animal,
Form: Rhyme
A long ago, during warm midsummer-nights glow worms reminded me
That constellations in the sky were not the only bright specks,
I’d run my life checks
Irregular but stern
As if I were a dying drifter
Who throws rocks left and right
Of the long railway of life
As if marching uphill rugged Brumby bushland
For the last stand
To defend not only the fragile Earth’s crust
One providentially stands on
But also to withstand the tastiness of madness
The present provides in filled up Phoenician stone vases
That were resting on the bottom of the sea
Until the lungs of young divers
Brought them back to the surface
Right into the nexus of our lives
Like a gong of a cosmic time system
With the purpose of timing heart beats
Of the living,
And the decay process of the dead.
Aesthetically the battle might have been pleasing
In the realm of morbidly catatonic reality
In the end, it turned out to be
Just a slice of the vintage Hermelin
Often served in the Central Bohemia
Where big breasted waitresses know very little
But compensate with the Karamoazovian smiles, so well.
Terra firma, I stand on, I battle on.
Categories:
brumby, meaningful,
Form: Free verse
My little blue cat Bumbie
Found in the street a Frumbie
Frumbie was a beetle
Mischievously kittle
Kicked cat's ass like a brumby
My little blue cat/Limerick/ Copyright©Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty 11/18/2014
Categories:
brumby, cat, fun, nonsense,
Form: Limerick
Gum trees line the road
To long outback red paddock
To my father's house
Olive green Gum leaves
On wind-swept red-sandstone hills
Flick like Brumby tails
Eucalypt tree leaves
Are food for our koala's
Round our Billabong
© Brenda V Northeast 23/Jan,/2012 for Linda- Marie’s haiku contest
Categories:
brumby, nature, nostalgia,
Form: Haiku
Hopkins snakes
Old Hopkins had a rope ladder,
To keep snakes out of the house,
Snake killing sticks under the rain water tank,
In the shower, where a snake ate the mouse,
The fowls all lived up in the trees,
Brownies were sucking eggs down, (deadly mulga snakes, dozens)
The bantams were sitting on eggs in bird nests,
Till the chickens were walking around,
Half wacked Jack, demented, said some,
Went to see a drover come through,
On a grey brumby horse, naked of course,
An was strip bollicky too, (horse riding naked)
Hopkins he said “me two best friends,
Are me shovel an hurricane light,”
He’d be punching holes ,
With crowbar alone ,
And fencing on into the night,
So if ya go near StGeorge ,
where the snakeys do gorge,
dodge death, climb up the rope ladder,
if the brownies don’t get ya,
death adders aint better,
just go to the pub it’s your shout!
Don Johnson 10-sep-11
I like this one because it is true story
Destroyer A Poet ~
Contest Name Your (OWN) favorite poem......
Categories:
brumby, adventure,
Form: Ballad
BERSHEBA BATTLE W.W.1
Horses sensed the coming battle,
Heard sabres rattling to be free.
Fed a nose bag of oats, and the rattle,
Of bayonets on the rifles, old Brumby
Off they are now, at a good trot.
Lining up for the Turks to see,
Held in check bridles curbed, or not,
Cantered, galloped now recklessly.
Galloping over the open ground
Yelling cursing so merrily
In amongst the Turks they bound
Slashing shooting with such bravery.
So the Turkish trench is now taken
Old horse got a drink this you see
Droving job with prisoners a making
Charge of the light brigade with me
Don Johnson
Oats for strength and spirit with a horse,
do you ride well enough to try it...
Categories:
brumby, adventure,
Form: Ballade
Know you’re alive
Oh you know you’re alive!
In a punch up mate,
And you duck ,
as he swings at you,
Straight left does get,
you out of strife,
right cross for him will do.
(your shout George.....after a punchup)
You saddle a nark ,
of a horse so sweet,
till on his back you get,
drops his head ,
bucks n roots ,
thrown from the saddle Fred.
So you sit behind the saddle then,
while he pigroots, pigroots, too.
And you try to climb a climbing back,
a bouncing back, into the saddle too.
But he rears and tips you off old mate,
and you’re a picking up your hat.
A smug look on the brumby horse,
A saying “what do you think of that!” :)
Don Johnson
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y2xYHGqJDgY
Categories:
brumby, adventure
Form: Rhyme