ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

The Temporary Ranga
©M. Pattie 2012








Young likeable Langer
the seasonal ranga,
whilst hunting grasshopper
his plumage went copper.
As each egret’s feather;
it changed with the weather
they paired off together
and went hell for leather.

He feasted, did Langer
on cattle-tick sanga,
his plumage the reason:
the bird breeding season.
But his ranga resemblance
brought pangs of remembrance
for egret descendants
and past extirpendance.

For early November;
a time to remember
for likeable Langer
the seasonal ranga.
When poachers and raiders -
once evil crusaders;
those southern invaders
fed milliner traders.

They shot’em and plucked’em
then down south they trucked’em
for hats upon faces
and worn to the races.
To see them all fawning
at feathers adorning
whilst egrets were mourning
the orphan eggs dawning.

Those Flemington fashions
stirred ire and passions.
Those bright fashionistas;
the divas and sisters
all dressed up like bangers
with hats off the hangers
made from egret rangas -
ancestors of Langers.

Past November violence,
he marks it with silence
does likeable Langer
the seasonal ranga.
The race stops a nation
with much celebration
but at Langer’s location
it’s just lamentation.

Yeah mate I think all the animal liberationist chatter of late is playing havoc with my shindapsuses . . . the original idea formulated was to write a poem about hunting Julia Gillard look-a-likes after a gutfull of 'champoo' on Cup day

But seriously - don't harrass a breeding bird
Cheers,
Marty

I think that's very good Marty.

Love it Marty, you bird lover you.

Have you been on telly and I missed it?

Heather

HUH ?????


Idle hands are the devils play things ?


Bob

Nice one Marty.

Matt . . thanks mate - the Chaser are way too sharp for a bowling ball like me though (oh . . and leaf me alone with the foliage puns)

Thanks Nev

Thanks Heather - yep a bird lover from way back.

Too cryptic for me Bobbo Thanks Dennis (did you ever get Dob??)

Marty

G'day Marty,

I find here in California, the country areas all you hear is traffic from the freeways. Even in the wooded areas what struck me was the quietness. I guess they (The birds) know the humans have lots of guns here......

I like the poem its marvelous subject matter and close to your heart. Photography is yours? its all very well done...


PHIL

Thanks Phil.

Appreciate your comments. And no . . the pics aint mine.

Cheers, Marty