ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

This is a Poem I wrote about 15 years ago when camped at a place near the Granites.
I haven’t changed it to suit – But I will write a new poem for this lot of Homework - Terry


SILHOUETTES AND SILENCE

While resting back at camp I watched the light begin to fade,
the trees were all in silhouette, the hills a darker shade.
A narrow band of tinted sky marked where the sun had set,
the colours were so beautiful, a scene I’ll not forget.

This time of day is special as I love the solitude,
the quietness of the outback, no distractions to intrude.
I view the rugged beauty of this harsh but special place,
with craggy hills surrounded by the miles of open space.

I focused on a nearby peak where Eagles perch by day,
to view the land around them with a sharp lookout for prey.
I notice then the silence, there’s a total lack of sound
and not a thing is moving in the air or on the ground.

The windmill in the distance has now shuddered to a stop
and nothing drinks the water; there’s no kangaroos to hop.
No dust haze in the distance from a recent passing car,
a kind of peaceful moment is now spreading out afar.

An eerie sort of quietness now pervades the whole surround,
it’s only with remoteness can such moments now be found.
You feel you ought to hold your breath there bottled up inside,
in case you spoil this moment when your breath and still collide.

Now have you ever listened when there’s silence all around,
and not a leaf is stirring, and there’s not a single sound?
The breeze has died completely, it’s as though the earth stood still,
I’ll long recall that silent camp below the white quartz hill.

*****

©T.E. Piggott

G'day Terry,
Enjoyed the read mate, once again up to your usual high standard.
I closed my eyes and I could have been there. (although I still had the background noise of the busy road out the front our place ) but that made me appreciate the poem even more!
Cheers
Ron.

Just beautiful Terry - your words always take me there alongside you - 'show not tell' was always something Neville Briggs was passionate about and it is something you do so well and I loved this

when your breath and still collide.

Thanks Ron and Maureen

I wrote the skeleton of this poem at that camp and later tried fleshing it out.
The camp was at an unusual place among some tall Desert Sheoaks, quite rare in that country.
Although I came across these moments of total quietness (or silence) in other spots,
that particular evening has always stayed with me.
It was quite eerie.

Terry

As always, Terry, you paint the scene to perfection and take us there with you. This is truly a beautiful write - love it!

Thanks Catherine,
I remember that evening like it was yesterday - Magic!

Sory, you have had so much trouble with your eye,
I can sympathize with you, I had a spinal op on Sept. 2nd,
and it took until the just after Christmas to get the wound to heal.
I was going into the surgery three times a week to get it dressed.

Terry

Ah, Terry, that's awful...Yes, I remember you were going in, and it takes a very long time to get over something like that, for sure! Every time something goes wrong with our health, we are reminded all over again how it really is the most important thing, because without it, we can do nothing.

Excellent as always, Terry!

Like Maureen, in a poem filled with beautiful word pictures, "when your breath and still collide" is a real standout phrase! I wish I'd said that!

Cheers
Shelley

Thanks Shelley

Terry