rain – The Poetic Life 2.0

In The Gloom of Wintertime

Posted on July 10, 2024 by Tracey L. Bhattarai

When Wintertime adventures are in full swing,
One finds themselves in variants outside their norm,
Be it just weather conditions, or alternate swings,
Oftentimes pushing our bodies systems more to perform…

Regardless it a hike starting in ten n under temps,
Or a crowd not mixed amongst much before,
Our bodies can only take so much beyond normals extremes,
‘Til our immune system finds itself stretched beyond its limits core. 

Thus soon there’s a sniffle, a cough, an increasing temp,
Whilst Rain drizzles like children’s noses,
A sick day when everyone is fighting it off,
That’s far from snuggles and cozy horizontal poses…

For when a sick day doubles a rain event,
Movies and blankets may seem minds ideal,
However when everyone’s coughing/sneezing disrupts the storyline’s,
Soup, sleep and medicinals may become a nicer path through the ordeal…

Though devices have become alarms for medicine times,
And crystals find foreheads to soothe in kind,
Many a restless child upset they’re too sick to play,
Brings another element frustrating to one’s bind.

Yet there’s comfort in the warmth of a well herbed, spiced soup,
And a small ones smile a few days in brings hope of an imminent mend,
Soon enough all will be back out on another wintertime adventure,
Ever grateful for this ill moment in the gloom of wintertime to finally have come to its end!

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!

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