Long Bushland Poems

School holidays were testing times for Mum’s with things we done,
when us kids had idle time to chase the values of new fun.
We’d trained our dogs, built bushland huts, chased rabbits; camped at night.
Dipped the...

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- - - An observation of true events - - - 
  - - (insatiable person's search) - - 

Aiming to embellish my identity 
Rural persona branches further 
Tight city existence not meant for...

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Drink the Namibia Countryside 

Namibia a West African country, on the Atlantic coast
Namibia’s beauty is wonderfully surreal and alluring,
With endless savannah and bushland 
With most stunning landscapes in Africa, 
with acres of ocean shores, woodland...

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Of a distant land I ponder.
Of a country torn asunder.
Of Zimbabwe ne'er forgotten -
Where the life has turned so rotten.
Ah it tugs my heartstrings so -
This much loved land so full of woe.

In my dreams...

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Hope was Burrow's substance, where he poured his time, 
Pedalling steadily.
Intended path made smooth for those in legacy line.
Sliced through wiry roots, 
Watchguard Wombat dug safety spaces.

Safety albeit empty, 
claw shortening scooping to prop up...

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There's a breed of Aussie hero who has served this nation well 
and they don a yellow uniform to face the fires of hell. 
When day temperatures are soaring and the high winds blow a...

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On the days I’m in the forest,
there is peace and gratitude,
with being where time does move slow,
and there’s the natural attitude,
of the urging for survival,
that keeps the forest in fine tune,
without scars of foreign progress,
in...

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The Long Drought

A raging drought is running, causing pain
Beneath the scorching sun, the barren plain
The river’s gone, she’s ceased her mighty flow
And bushland trees no longer thrive nor grow

The dams are low and dry, it...

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There is a story from Renmark in the Riverland
Of a man in the bush as his legend began
He was a shearer from New Zealand in the Depression
Who came to Australia in the 1920s for shearing...

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Oh to observe the world in all its beauty
Just for a moment to ignore what is wrong 
And all we do that is wrong and all that should be 
To see to observe, to treasure,to...

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The Demise of a Good Keen Man

                The Good Keen Man was a hunter in Government employ
   ...

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At daybreak,  
I approach the beach across a soft hill of clover, 
past sleeping Pandanus palms,
and down a small sand dune.

I am enveloped by sea wind.

I look up to a flight of swallows -...

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Excitement filled the bushland as December was near
Every creature had been waiting for Christmas time - all year.
Wallabies hung their stockings on a  gumtree branch with care
Just as all nice children do – everywhere.

Meanwhile...

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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...

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I am the bushland dawning
in the stillness of the morning
I am the sunlit plains
and the mighty river's flow

I'm the drought and I'm the flood
I'm the earth and I'm the blood
I'm the breezes ever blowing
where the...

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The bright lights of the city
Have lured me away
From bushland plains and mulga scrub
from plains of rich red clay

Away from the serenity
to noise and toil and strife
To pay the bills and cure the ills
of living...

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I passed by Old Man Banksia, a wonderfully gnarled tree,
While trekking through the Jamison, a bushland pedigree,
I saw the broad leaf of the Geebung, with its yelow frill,
The distant sounds of Katoomba Falls with its...

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I’m a very early riser  - the first settler’s 
alarm clock you might say- 
If you haven’t heard my native name 
Wiradjuri guuguubarr- That’s OK
you would know me as a Kookaburra.

You’ll often hear me...

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.
Out in the bushland, no street lights around
No sheltering tent, we lay on the ground
Close by a green pool and Kurrajong tree
Alone by ourselves, just Willow and me

The bushland at night is dark as black...

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Close 'round the crackling fire we three,
with sweet acacia in the air - 
tell stories of Gallipoli
and digger's bond of friendship there.

We laughed and shared like family
with roof and walls of stars our home -...

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Have you walked the bushland trails?
With Banksias all around
And whiffed the scent of rotting leaves
All scattered on the ground

Have you walked with sand beneath your toes?
Amidst the seashells lining beach
Your hair all blowing in the...

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