Category: Nature

Posted in Bush poetry, Info Poem, Nature, Poetry

Living in the Aussie Outback…

Posted on by Tracey L. Bhattarai 
Red sand, 4 wheel drives, goanna’s on the run,
Life in the Australian bush is known for being fun!
Big Red Kangaroos, and emus running by,
While a mighty wedge tail eagle soars up in the clear blue sky!

Whilst for the most life in the bush is sweet to say the least,
Unless it happens to be midsummer… post rain… and the mozzies start to feast.
Thus there’s a very valid reason the tourists tend to come round June,
Summer can be down right dangerous despite natures sweet tune.

For when the rain deluges in horizontal, blowing everything askew,
And goanna’s decide to accompany you when you happen to use the loo,
Whilst venomous snakes move into the garden as if invited right on cue,
And you can’t venture through a doorway without checking for;
 An abundance of creatures that could be lurking to fall on you…
Not to mention the array of spiders which after all that don’t seem so bad,
And the flies that when mixed with heat and dust are near enough to send one mad.

Though if perchance you can handle enduring all of that,
The great Australian outback can be a blast (just don’t forget a solid hat).
With many an adventure awaiting all whom dare,
And for those of us that live out here that’s everyday with flare,
For the vast Aussie bushland is abundant with ever changing beauty and grace,
One just need remember to stay diligently mindful or she’ll fast put you in your place.

Posted in Nature, Poetry, Thought Provokers

May Their Phoenix Rise!

Posted on by Tracey L. Bhattarai 
A delicate bird with clipped wings in a cage,
Whose beauty and elegance seems abounding,
Can only dream and sing their long days away,
Whilst pondering how the free birds spend their day.

Pondering what dew covered berries taste like off a bush,
As the sun kisses treetops good morning at dawn,
How an evening breeze would feel to glide home upon,
And what it would be like to harmonise with another’s song.

Yet within it’s well tended cage of metal and straw,
Comfort and safety reason away thoughts so free,
That our feathery friend seems content and happy,
Singing its song all day in and out as it believes ‘tis supposed to be.

Then one day evidently our little friend finds a door ajar,
Venturing out as cautiously as a timid kitten shy,
Leaving both cage and comfort further behind in each moment,
Until fearing their unknown is no longer a component. 

Eventually this feathered beauty starts to heal,
From their traumatic past endured for so long,
Though the healing may at times seem traumatising within itself,
‘Tis ultimately better to withstand it than bury it upon a shelf.

Thus soon may come a time so empowering,
That they start to embrace their new chapter of life,
Allowing their inner phoenix to rise from their past strife,
Entering each new seraphic day increasing their new enchantment rife!
Posted in Info Poem, Nature, Poetry, Thought Provokers

Metallic Marvels 

Posted on by Tracey L. Bhattarai 
Gold, silver, platinum, bronze; just to name a few,
Are metals a lot of us seem to hold of varying precious status,
Yet most of us go our whole lives unaware,
Of what these metallic variants can do for us…

For just like crystals and their gemstone counterparts,
We know they’ve their own respective properties and perspectives, 
Scientists have shown and experimented alike with,
Their toxicities, physical uses and complexities.

Systems define them to be of varying values to us,
And yet what if these metallic marvels of mother nature’s creation,
Serve a divinely different purpose to how we humans have substagated,
What if these sparkling resources exist for a very different intention?

Could it be they play a vital role in the survival of our planet?
After all we’ve micro variants of gold and copper in our blood,
If we over mine these marvellous, shiny metals,
Could worldwide balance be thrown off with a thud?

Or perhaps us humans mining and spreading metals across the Earth,
May perchance be creating a global harmonising effect,
Creating a shield of sorts if you will imagine for a moment,
Against our own advances in what we believe soon to be inept.

Perhaps we need to take a moment and just ponder,
These metallic marvels in all their strong, sparkling wonder,
Then adjusting our usage if need be in the future ahead,
Before to our eventual returning demise we are lead.
Posted in Bush poetry, Nature, Poetry, Uncategorized

Feathery Pool Party!

Posted on by Tracey L. Bhattarai 
With the water becoming scarce,
And the temperature arising,
A Galah flock found themselves a quite pool,
In which they engulfed quite unsurprising.

Soon there was a grey/pink cloud,
Covering most of the ground & blue sky overhead,
Drinking the water in the pool however,
Would find quite a few sick or dead..

Yet they stayed on poolside,
As if their party must go on,
Screeching their song be it an almighty din,
Dancing through each day so long. 

Like most parties this one has its characters,
The lifeguard, the clown, the quiet one in a corner,
Those that are boldly in the spotlight,
Or on the fence along the border.

‘Till at last the party’s over for the day,
All fly off to where they roost,
Resting quietly ‘till dawning light,
Finding fresh water’s sure to be a boost.
Posted in Bush poetry, Nature, Poetry, Uncategorized

Outback Summer

Posted on 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.
Posted in Bush poetry, Nature, Poetry, Uncategorized

Dust Field Blooms

Posted on 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.
Posted in Nature, Poetry, Thought Provokers, Uncategorized

Coastal Dreamer

Posted on 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.
Posted in Bush poetry, Nature, Poetry, The Bushman Series

The Bushman’s Drought Breaker

Posted on 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!

Subscribe to continue reading

Become a paid subscriber to get access to the rest of this post and other exclusive content.

Posted in Nature, Poetry, Thought Provokers, Uncategorized

Life goes on…

Posted on 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.
Posted in Nature, Poetry, Thought Provokers, Uncategorized

There’s a Bird…

Posted on 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.