Written: January 22, 2024
_________________________________________
I hear the wild cry as I sleep,
no roaming goats or gulls or sheep.
Tire them out, no trace of dread sweep,
seamless grass is combed by reap.
I heard the humpback cry whale site,
before the day turned into night.
Hunt for krill, girls, and young scouts fight,
boys, singing, as one, of raw dight.
Meadowlarks wave wings in the breeze,
hunt flies in the sun, fly with bees.
Breathe fresh air as lowly birds tease,
tweet, and perch on red tussock trees.
Meadow wrens chirp as streams dry out,
fly high to low till storms cross route.
Categories:
tussock, analogy, appreciation, bird, flying,
Form: Quatorzain
Bright sun lit the sky and I lit a joint
and the mood was gay and our spirits free;
when headed for the coast, Te Arai Point,
on that long dusty trail through Forestry.
Back to an age of “substance” over style -
a DB or ten in the tussock grass
but the gulf wind off Great Barrier Isle
blew waves to the shore and sand up my ar-se!
Soon a campfire did blaze a windward chill
when long into the night its flame we’d stoke,
and gazed at the stars till we had our fill
with magic silver bullets up in smoke.
And when the sun rose over the beachhead
it fell the dunes and raised the living dead.
Written: March 1995
The year was 1977.
DB is a brand of beer
Categories:
tussock, beach, nostalgia, youth,
Form: Sonnet
In the dell the trees are old,
grim they are and obstinate,
they persist.
Higher up on the slopes
silver barks and slim trunks
reach and stretch, light
is their mood, and young their growth.
Further still,
A few mountain climbers hang on to
a thinner earth. Strong trees, yet
supple enough to withstand
the wind and the ceaseless blows
of the elements.
Above them nothing can withstand
but tussock grass
their roots are as deep as death
in the buried scrabble and rock.
Up above, the peaks soar;
for this mountain is the root of
all that ascend.
Thus high and low, all those that grow
bow to the earth
that uplifts each to its place,
a just allotment
of heaven on earth.
Categories:
tussock, poetry,
Form: Free verse
The purple race the tussock face
heather dwells in delinquent mist
fresh the morning waits to embrace
as the sun’s rays break to enlist.
For you are there my summer rose
against the wind your grace unfolds
nothing there is like nature chose
for the memory one remoulds.
Golden sunrise upon the morn
captures the diamond on the dew
nature revels in fragrances worn
scented hint of florescent hue.
The verdant valley doth display
when gentle breeze her hair to sway.
© Harry J Horsman 2021
Categories:
tussock, nature,
Form: Sonnet
The opaque mist
hangs buoyant; taut,
a stubble veil infects
an ancient craggy face,
and currents of blooming
heather lay nonchalant along
the old Roman road.
Here I stand in retrospect
motionless as the frigid sun
begins to blend, a place where
one should feel privileged
to negotiate the freezing wind,
this place surely in need of a friend
where tussock stand rigid still!
My footprint etched upon its soul
before each blade of grass
appears to acknowledge,
this confined partisan role.
© Harry J Horsman 2020
Categories:
tussock, nature,
Form: Free verse
Slow, slow
Stop, stop
Here, here
The tree
She hobbled between
The Tussock grass
Toward the tree’s
The biggest, tallest
She made for
She stopped half way
To look
Look up
At this tree
Tall and brown
Thick with Bowe
The oldest of these tree’s
She hobbled on to this tree
Dropping her cane
At its base
Placing her hands on this tree
In communion
Connection
To that
One cannot see
This tree
The old lady
She made her way round its base
Keeping one hand on the tree
Moving off to look around
To what was on the ground
No one knows how old she is
This tree older still
Creases of time
Play out on both faces of this
Old lady
The tree
She came into this world
Under this tree
At a time
No one remembers
But she remembers
The time and this tree
Personal Dreaming and this tree
Upon a regular time
She’d visit this tree
But now
Not so much
As no one has time for this
Old lady
And her tree
Categories:
tussock, tree,
Form: Free verse
I envy those living as part of the wild
For I too, once heeded its call
A smoldering ember since I was a child
Urge, and belonging all part of the thrall.
I’ve enjoyed the fresh taste of a sparkling stream
Felt the tremble as you push through your fear
Stood high on a peak admiring Gods scheme
Felt both delight and remorse for taking a deer.
I’ve walked for weeks through valleys and trees
Traversed mountains with lush native grass
Felt the warmth and the cold of high country breeze
Navigated tussock, forests and high country pass.
I’ve smelt autumn rain as it mingles with dirt
Enjoyed the isolation of me and my views
Valued crude shelter while nature unleashes its hurt
Watched forest birds doing their best to amuse
But I’m now destined to be one of societies slaves
In a world where worth is measured by cash
Where worry and stress are delivered in waves
Where those without are regarded as trash.
I felt most alive in the middle of nowhere
Now dead when hemmed by city and streets
Nothing compares with fresh mountain air
Living free, no money, bills, or receipts.
Categories:
tussock, humanity, journey, life, nature,
Form: Rhyme
I am a tussock, lying alone
Alone on the ground, unfound
Mating the solitude, some pebbles and a stone
I am a tussock, lying alone
Wind carries me in its lap
Make me witness, mountains and seas
I touch veins, falling from high trees
Floats on the blue mirror, with lilies grown
I am a tussock, lying alone
To the world of shine and fame
I am useless, no identity no name
But I am happy to be unknown
I am a tussock, lying alone
I am nothing, nothing to be noticed
And thus, free from restrictions, obligations
Free from expectations, free from relations
Do voyages in a manner of my own
I am a tussock, lying alone
Categories:
tussock, life, philosophy, voyage, wisdom,
Form: I do not know?
Fiordland
Fiordland ! Fiordland!
The name that resounds again and again Once touched you’ll never be the same
And to her callings again I came
Her many faces now to see
Peace and tempest which one are thee
The tempest rages uncontrolled
As she displays her restless soul
Deep in my heart I love this land
Untamed, unforgiving rock and sand
Shipwrecks adorn your western shores
Your Fiords a haven from the storm
Here where we see beauty born
Among these majestic mountain walls
Rugged, romantic, regal all
That clash of land and sea
Life and death at the hands of the sea
One time home of the mighty Moose Axis deer were here let loose
In the tussock the Notornis still roam
And Trophy Wapiti call this home
Land of mysteries, Land of change
Where the weather dictates rain upon rain
Tomorrow with hope we’ll see a change
Perhaps next time when we come again
Categories:
tussock, adventure, , western,
Form: Rhyme
To embrace
life’s analytic myth
to inspire
nature’s symbolic smile,
to manoeuvre
amidst northern skies of blue
to roam
chauvinistic contours sensitive and true.
To perceive
inclement purple haze that rebels
against the moor side mist,
to dwell if only momentarily within
a dream upon
“Windgate Nick” Where dandelion
seeds float in sunbeams
of radical tranquil,
and fanciful fables
of innocent finery are spawned.
To wander
the fallow tracks of “Heber’s Ghyll”
Stride the sparsely tussock
of “Nab wood Hill”
Create vernacular legend
amid “Viking” Skill!
Ramble again
the stony edge of “Ilkley Moor”
Split the boulder find the cure
formulate
a pageant, compose an
hereafter tour, if only to believe in him!
Entered Mark Toney's 2022
Poetry Marathon mile 22.
9/12/2022
poem written 2011
Categories:
tussock, mystery,
Form: Free verse
(An Addingham poem)
The venerable mist
hangs buoyant; taut,
a stubble veil upon
its face, when currents
of blooming heather lay
along its ancient purple race.
Beneath I stand in retrospect
motionless as time begins to blend,
here where one should feel privileged
to negotiate the freezing wind,
this place surely in need of a friend
where tussock stand rigid still!
My footprint etched upon its soul
before each blade of grass
appears to acknowledge,
this confined partisan role.
© Harry J Horsman 1997
Categories:
tussock, nature,
Form: Free verse