The tall eucalypts
drip
their harvest
of morning mist.
I come here
to the forest
to be alone -
share my solitude.
Fluffy white clouds in the smokey blue sky
Whilst eucalypts branch healthy and high,
Fuzzy reflections mirror and shade
Grandeur creations naturally made.
Gentle ripples boarder surrounds
Native low plants cluster close grounds,
Waterhole wonders here to behold
Breathtaking beautiful gold.
In neat formations
rhododendrons guard
the half acre order
of our mountain block
and rush their unreal colour
into a landscape just emerging
from winter's cold.
They seem out of place
in the green - brown encirclements
of native bush where beneath
towering eucalypts
only an odd acacia accents
the understory shade
in tiny globules
of palest yellow.
Soon summer will bleach colour
from a drying world.
Borders will wilt
as the bush draws closer.
Here, coiled
in the shadows of long days,
life sinks
to a shallow pant.
An uneasy quiet
is menaced by siren wails
and heat.
Into the mystic and blue water purl
watch in motion a season’s changing guard,
and rising ocean drafts its far depths swirl
up silica sandstone cliffs steeped and scarred.
Where silver eucalypts shadow the sea,
and apple blossom in pink clusters soon
shed soft petals till fruit hangs from its tree -
and chrysalis to butterfly cocoon.
Hear the honey bees and songbirds’ refrain
as the September sun over Torbay
invites perennial chorus again -
and new buds open upon a new day.
From my deck chair I’ll kick back tomorrow
when spring’s bow lets fly El Nino’s arrow.
Written: September 1995
Wild hedges of scarlet bottle brush
Ruby flowers catch my eye,
Busy bees kiss mauve daises
And a giant dragonfly…
Waterhole where birds are dipping
Flowing notes from natures fall,
Sunbeams sprays of light through nature
Eucalypts towering tall.
Spirits carved within the sandstone
Sacred spot where life evolved,
Peaceful place in paradise
Though mysteries remain unsolved.
I wasn't born
in Ballarat
or Bendigo
Rome wasn't close
I was born
near Reggio Calabria
many eons ago.
Each night a brown orb spider,
a piece of night from under the eaves
spins a sticky intricate web
against the silhouette of leaves
Kangaroos the color of bark and stones
begin a dawn retreat to a rose lit tree line
I peep from the window- stretch and yawn
as grey mist fades into spreading sunshine
myriads of birdsong in filtered zones
as dew reveals gossamer webs on the lawn.
Tiny finches are flitting down,
from twig to twig to a birdbath of stone
They dip and splash and re -alight,
as I sit and watch in my dressing gown.
not moving in case I give them a fright
absorbed in them I am least alone
Their colors are grey, bright green, and brown
Rain scents of earth and eucalypts
a bush path strewn with bark and puddles
under swaying strands of weeping leaves
in shadowy niches of scented idyls
aware of the tapestry nature weaves
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Cobwebs sag, gloomy clouds
like a furrowed brow
loom over the house-
a kangaroo lies dying on
our country road .
A car's apologetic screech-
a deathly thud-
the twisted scrambling
of a broken creature,
and I, watching dumbstuck,
as it sprawls, drawing at
underbrush with frantic forepaws -
reluctant to let go of life
and earth
When others of its kind
came back to find its
carcass, devoid of warmth,
they shed opalescent tears of grief
Tears with the scent of eucalypts
and raindrops
A mute devotion
reflecting aspects of me.
Eucalypts in storms
under a Kimberley sky...
the Polar Bear fries.
© Harry J Horsman 2012
~~~
He’s such a cuddly little guy,
to lose him we’d regret.
And though he’s on the threatened list
he’s not endangered......Yet!
Unique to East Australia
but known the world o’er.
He lives high up in eucalypts
not on the forest floor.
His diet is the tough gum leaves,
he eats no other food,
and that is where the problem lies.
The future bodes no good.
For they’re cutting down the forests
at an increasing rate,
and one can only wonder
what is Koala’s fate?
So let us hope the powers that be
on logging, shut the gate,
to save our trees and wild life
before it’s all too late.
~~~
The Koala is a marsupial (not a bear) whose baby stays in the pouch for six months then
clings to her back for another six. They sleep for many hours through daylight, and feed at
night on the leaves of the eucalyptus tree from which they also derive most of their water
supply. They need a large amount of these trees to survive.