Island in the Wind

[ALANM]

ISLAND IN THE WIND
(By Alanm February 2022)

Oh my Island, in the wind, sadly I gaze at your fading shore
spirited away across the Strait, I’ll walk upon your land no more.
Would I could, I would not leave, till my ashes cast upon your sand
yet even then my spirit would linger, at rest in this timeless land.

I’ll miss green hills sweeping down to the sea,
some cradled by cliffs, that steepled above me.
I’ll miss brown fields, ploughed in uniform rows
the flowery tops of the ’taters, all bursting to grow.

I’ll miss Apple blossoms, where the busy wee bees
happily buzz as they work, pollinating the trees.
But I’ll not miss the Forties as they roar ‘cross the land
scattering the blossoms, ‘fore the Bees lend a hand.

I’ll miss fields of Poppies, purple hats all aglow
green fields of Corn, standing tall in a row.
Forested valleys, where cool streams wind and flow
eyes of the Possums in the car headlight glow.

I’ll miss far off ranges, oft’ covered with snow
the ice on the lakes, when it’s ten C below
reflections on Franklin, cruising slowly upstream
the smell of the docks where the Trawlers careen.

I’ll miss Wallabies bounding, on a cold dewy morn
and the choralling of Black Jays, on a chill highland dawn.
Salt spray from great waves as they pound Western shore
swirling forests of Bull Kelp, entwining off-shore.

The shreiking of Devils as they argue the meal
the soft slap of a Platypus, as he turns on his heel.
The sight of a Wedgtail circling on high
near up in the clouds, my, how they can fly.

I’ll miss rotund Wombats, mooching quietly along
and I’ll miss Little Wattlebirds, their loud racous song
The trilling of Wrens as they flock to the feeder
I’ll miss them all, there’s no creatures sweeter.

A love that is real but could never declare
on my windy Island _ a maiden so fair.
Filled my old heart with gladness and joy
visions live in my mind, wish’t I was still a boy.

I'll miss my true friends, all I've ever had
to not see them again makes me feel sad.
A long road stretches out with many a bend
I'll be done with travellin', when it comes to the end.

I came here from nowhere and I go to nothing,
the only real meaning was for me to be here.
a feeling of peace and of real belonging,
yea, though from afar, my soul will live here.

[Shelley Hansen]

Very powerful word picture, Alan!

Sounds like Tassie to me!

Cheers
Shelley

[Catherine Lee]

Really enjoyed this, Alan. It is poignant and conjures up some delightful images - a lovely poem filled with appreciation for the island left behind.

[ALANM]

G'day Shelley,
Thank you for your comments, yes it's Tassie, beautiful one day, magnificent the next.
Cheers
Alan

[ALANM]

G'day Catherine,
Glad you liked the poem, those delightful images will stay with me forever, 'Would I could I would never leave'
Cheers
Alan

[mummsie]

Beautiful images Alan which you have captured so well.
I love Tassie & have fond memories of my first visit in 2000. So clean & welcoming. The richness of the soil sprang to mind in your line “I’ll miss brown fields, ploughed in uniform rows”. Your words echo a soul kindled by nature. Thank you!

Sue

[ALANM]

G’day Sue
Thank you for your comments, it’s a special place and I will truly
miss living here. “ Such is life “ as duty calls we must answer.
Cheers Alan