Bush poetry – Page 5 – The Poetic Life 2.0

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.

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

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, The Bushman Series, Uncategorized

The Bushman and The Great Fire.

Posted on October 17, 2023 by Tracey L. Bhattarai

'Twas a sunny summer morning,
As The Bushman rocked in his chair,
Talking to his mighty chestnut horse,
When a spark started a flare.

It slowly crept from leaf to leaf,
Over a hill not too far away,
Gradually gaining momentum,
Burning whatever was in its way.

Soon ’twas a roaring blaze,
Engulfing flora high and low,
Sending animals scattering fast,
Whilst creating a far seen glow.

When the Bushman first did catch sight,
Of that great fires billowing smoke,
He quickly leapt up from his seat,
Making contact with the village folk.

Meanwhile that great fire spread,
Vastly over the thick bushland,
Killing all that couldn't get away,
On the very spot that they did stand.

Roos bounded and lizards scurried,
As fast as they possibly could,
Cockatoos shrieking as they flew,
Evacuating homes of twiggy wood.

The great fire was growing rapidly,
As it started burning on up the hill,
Towards The Bushman's homestead,
Creeping in every direction at will.

To find out what unfolds in this adventure please subscribe below:

Poetry, The Bushman Series

The Bushman’s Steed

Posted on September 21, 2023 by Tracey L. Bhattarai

Along winding dusty tracks,

The Bushman proudly rides,

High upon his Nobel steed,

With its smooth, chestnut hide.

***

His long mane’s lightly tangled,

From winds and stormy rain,

A flick of his great mighty head,

Then He’s ready to go again.

***

His strong, long muscular legs,

After big, tiresome days do ache,

Following a night of rest and care,

Through many more he’ll make.

***

Sporting a soft muzzle, neck and ears,

Filled with characteristic grooves,

A strong, leather saddled back,

And well shod, sturdy hooves.

***

He’s loyal to only his master,

And enjoys a fresh grass snack,

Tries his best in every terrain,

Endurance he does not lack.

***

For this mighty stallion’s pride,

Radiates from deep within his core,

A beastly being many view in awe,

Agape only to whom he may deeply adore.

*********

Poetry

The Bushman’s Homestead!

Posted on March 2, 2023 by Tracey L. Bhattarai

Deep in the amazing Australian bush,

At the end of a long winding dirt track,

Where gumtrees sway in the breeze,

And the only way in is on horseback.

***

There’s a small old mud/wood house,

With a rusting corrugated tin roof,

It’s plumbing is a basic sight to see,

And Horses only find dirt under hoof.

***

Wildlife come and go as they please,

The garden consists of wildflowers,

There’s a rocking chair by the door,

To relax in for plenty of long hours.

***

The verandah’s built for all to enjoy,

Whether they be man, bird or beast,

A tank to catch and store fresh water,

And a barbecue to cook up a feast.

***

Inside’s an old cottage appearance,

To delight a beholders inquisitive eye,

For this is the comfortable bush home,

Of the Bushman when he comes on by.

*********

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