The Poetic Life 2.0

Bush poetry, Nature, Poetry, Uncategorized

Fight or Fly

Posted on November 28, 2023November 27, 2023 by Tracey L. Bhattarai

An idea... or a dream,
Plants a seed inside,
Creating excitement a plenty,
Which can be pretty hard to hide,
Yet voicing it at this early stage,
Can create a rather short 'n' bumpy ride.

Then quietly comes a mountain,
Of research that must be done,
To see what might have to happen,
For it to receive an informed run,
'N' although it can be quite overwhelming,
Persevere... research can be a ton of fun!

Gradually it starts it's growing,
Despite the obstacles in the way,
Clawing it's way steadily through,
Not knowing if all this work will pay,
Yet still it grows on notwithstanding,
Surrounding negativity and challenges each day.

Then come competitors in plain sight,
Leaving for whatever their reason,
Even with doubt playing it's evil hand,
It views quitting equal to treason,
Thus on it continues growing,
Throughout this challenging season.

Finally it starts observing,
All the hard work paying off,
Overcome challenges have taught much,
In preparation for a future rough,
That may be hiding amongst the success,
Practicing their own horrid evil laugh.

Now so close to the top,
'N' yet so far still to go,
Another challenge rears it's head,
One so difficult most would bow,
But on it fights with every strength,
With every thing it has in stow.

With success after this battle,
It still needs to keep on it's delicate edge,
Which can be rather difficult,
Much like balancing on an icy ledge,
One slight slip and all may be gone,
Staying on this point though 'tis it's current pledge.

It's achievements start empowering,
Others to have their turn,
All the lessons learned 'n' strategies,
Becoming legends for the next to learn,
For even once it has eventually fallen,
It's workings may still continue to earn.

Thus why we must keep on dreaming,
Even once we're living one,
For a dream fulfilled must keep on growing,
Improving and enhancing once begun,
So that we can keep on living it,
Working on it whilst having fun.

Bush poetry, Nature, Poetry, Uncategorized

Outback Summer

Posted on November 23, 2023November 22, 2023 by Tracey L. Bhattarai

Blistering sun & scorching ground,
Often little water to be found,
Imaginations needed to reprieve,
One suffering ‘till the sun’s rays leave.

Some retreat to an underground home,
‘Till nightfall makes it cool to roam,
Others can be found in or beneath trees,
Allowing the flora the heat to ease.

Yet even they struggle come afternoon,
Wishing ‘twas eve with a cooling moon,
Wishing moisture to come sooner than nightfall,
To replenish the physical beings of all. 

Yet as the sun starts to set,
A lot of creatures find some place wet,
Easing the heat/dust/stress of the day,
Before into the dark they venture to work/eat/play.

Bush poetry, Nature, Poetry, Uncategorized

Dust Field Blooms

Posted on November 21, 2023November 20, 2023 by Tracey L. Bhattarai

Fields, plains, paddocks vast,
Dust overtaking all ‘till clouds rain’s cast,
Yet at first not near enough to reduce dust blast,
By the slightest of wind’s breeze fast.

Until finally enough rain may fall,
To satisfy the vast quench of all,
Be they the tiniest of insects so small,
Or mightiest of ancient trees strong and tall.

Before one’s eye’s what was once dust,
Into it’s rejuvenation cycle ‘tis thrust,
Where witnesses may finally see greenery unfurl with lust,
That sprouts and blooms from the Earth’s very crust. 

‘Till all appears oasis lush,
Replenished tree’s and blooming bush,
Flowers and grass thriving seemingly in a rush,
Yet without ongoing abundance - all back to dust it shall just crush.

Nature, Poetry, Thought Provokers, Uncategorized

Coastal Dreamer

Posted on November 16, 2023November 20, 2023 by Tracey L. Bhattarai

Sitting upon my porch one hot dusty afternoon,
My mind began a wandering off away,
To a glistening golden sandy beach,
Where tall green palm trees back ’n’ forth calmly sway.

Where crystal blue ocean waves are softly breaking,
On the luxurious soft, sun warmed sand,
Seagulls quickly scavenging for their food,
Whilst young children clasp seashells in their hand.

Where the Moon and Sun rise from an ocean horizon,
Playful dolphins are jumping up through the sky,
The sound of waves crashing on nearby rocks,
People staring at giant whales swimming by.

Thus with a drink in hand I stroll along,
Enjoying the salty breeze in my hair,
The warm, damp, sand moulds around my toes,
Whilst my sequinned silk dress adds it’s own flair.

Smells of a BBQ come from the path ahead,
Where everyone’s only smiles to be found,
There’s a salad bar fully freshly stocked,
With the season’s abundance from all around…

Then a gust of hot, dry, dusty wind,
Blows right through my outback garden to my face,
Snapping me right back to my dusty, dry, reality,
And the chaos of this days pace.

Yet, there’s an element of my mind wanting to stay,
Wanting the daydreams energy to harden,
Alas, it merely makes a mild wave through the day,
Thus For now dreamland must grant my pardon.

Bush poetry, Nature, Poetry, The Bushman Series

The Bushman’s Drought Breaker

Posted on November 14, 2023 by Tracey L. Bhattarai

Early on one hot summer morn,
The Bushman sat a’ reading,
Contemplating his week ahead,
And to what his stock he’d be feeding.

The Newspaper covering his district,
’twas always good to read,
filled with news and an array of content,
from sports ’n’ yarns, to ‘How to Succeed’.

Sunshine ’twas predicted once again,
On the forecast charts of that paper,
’twas all they’d said four months in a row,
The Bushman pondered the whole caper.

Putting down the paper sighing,
The Bushman saddled up his horse,
Rode out to check his struggling heard,
Of which drought was dwindling in its force.

Yet he loped them down more branches,
Refilled their dry water troughs,
Heaved motherless calves o’er his saddle,
taking them home with dust filled coughs.

Day after day he continued,
Physical exhaustion taking it’s toll,
Stock feed becoming rather scarce,
Buying hay had became his moneys role.

Then late one November evening,
After the sun had sunk in the sky,
The Bushman ’twas riding homebound,
When a raindrop fell above his eye.

Soon ’twas followed by thousands more,
Raining hard that whole night long,
Next morn there was a wondrous sight,
All the thick powdery dust now long gone.

Dark grey clouds still loomed over head,
yet The Bushman’s mood was bright,
Water tanks and dams were overflowing,
The now running creek sparkled in the sunlight.

*********

To Find out what fun The Bushman has in the mud, where his stallion seeks shelter, and more please venture through the portal below where one can also find the full reading of this messy adventure!

Nature, Poetry, Thought Provokers, Uncategorized

Life goes on…

Posted on November 9, 2023November 8, 2023 by Tracey L. Bhattarai

A seed,
If given the chance,
And just the right space,
Can start its life's dance,
Growing a little and learning a little,
Till it blooms to entrance.

Ever Evolving,
To survive in its world,
Preparing its future offspring,
So that they in turn may thrive unfurled,
From life long lessons already learned,
And stand confidently tall instead of timidly curled.

Alas, one day,
It's life comes to an end,
Devastating loving beholders,
Whom now grieve in their own blend,
Of life tasks never ending,
All on hold whilst this one they send.

Eventually though,
They must clamber on out,
Of the negative hole they've been thrown,
Infuse the passed throughout,
Inspirational new ideas, lives, seeds,
Arising to take them on their route.

The climb however,
Can contain, treacherous, tough terrain, 
Some slip a little whereas others fall,
Gaining grazes or stabbings of negative pain,
Thus they now learn new ways to climb,
New strengths, paths, hopes, for positive gain.

Gradually,
New seeds gain enough light,
To shine through negative pain so raw,
That even dark days may seem bright,
As positivity and productivity,
Finally start to win the fight.

Thus presently,
Buds begin to show,
Releasing their magical high,
Overflowing with radiance yet still they grow,
Soon blooming in their own life's dance,
Till they too wither, loosing their glow.

Nature, Poetry, Thought Provokers, Uncategorized

There’s a Bird…

Posted on November 7, 2023November 6, 2023 by Tracey L. Bhattarai

There’s a bird at the bottom of my garden,
With plumage of blue and brown,
He brings his flock each a mere inch tall,
Enjoying a moment with succulents abound.

There’s a bird flitting around my garden, 
Whom thinks they’re the king of the yard!
Despite their small stature and affinity to match the cat,
This black and white one’s quite the bard.

There’s a bird strutting along in my garden,
Who’s a rare visitor white as a ghost,
Enjoying washing the dust away,
Before flying off fear to be toast. 

There’s a brown plumed bird visiting my garden,
With it’s beak reaching far above the fence!
Even if disturbed won’t run away,
Despite the dogs being a noisy menace. 

There’s a water bird upon the clothesline,
Although soon under the sprinkler,
Feathers dark as dark can be,
Unafraid this feathered friend often does linger.

There’s a bird upon the veranda,
So tiny as can be,
And just like his feathery counterparts,
Flits as he likes, wild and free.

Poetry, Thought Provokers, Uncategorized

Waiting… With Times Metronome.

Posted on November 2, 2023November 1, 2023 by Tracey L. Bhattarai

Tick, tock, tick, tocks the clock upon the wall,
Sending a quiet reminder out to one and all,
Whether it be flying on by, right away from you,
Or crawling along slowly till it finally strikes two,
That time is still continuing, even if it seems so still,
And how you use that time is what can really kill.

Perhaps you're a child sitting patiently in a class,
Waiting anxiously for the rest of the time to pass,
Someone waiting in a long line at a rather busy store,
After shopping around for their purchases galore,
A fisherman waiting on his biggest catch to bite,
Or maybe you're waiting for next Saturday night.

The nervous groom awaiting his beautiful bride,
An equestrian waiting for their next big ride,
A pregnant mother awaiting her unborn child,
Whose fears and anxiety go from severe to mild,
To think at some point down the future track,
She will be waiting for her 'help' to come on back.

We seem to spend a lot of time just waiting,
It seems to be necessary to our patience creating,
Helping prepare us for life's many test after test,
Giving us time to contemplate, learn and rest,
Providing we use our time waiting with care,
We may productively become further than there.

For in our lives so short, we have little precious time,
Thus wasting any seems our greatest personal crime,
Yet we spend so much rushing to get so little done,
The next thing we may know it's almost all gone,
Then we say it's all flown past so very quick,
But still the clock goes the same tick, tock, tick!

Feathery Pool Party!

Festive Season

Fight or Fly

Outback Summer

Dust Field Blooms

Coastal Dreamer

The Bushman’s Drought Breaker

Life goes on…

There’s a Bird…

Waiting… With Times Metronome.

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