ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Where The Brumbies Used to Be

It’s imbedded in the folklore of the highlands most agree,
for below those snow-capped peaks, is where the Brumbies used to be.
Tiny snow fed creeks there softly murmur as they glide on by,
it had seemed a place of magic, to a boy then such as I.

Foggy morns would see their ghostly shapes emerging from the mist,
warily at first, then grazing where the hills and valleys kissed.
They were always on the lookout, or at least it seemed to me
with the slightest hint of danger, in an instant they would flee

When the winter winds came roaring down to dash the hikers hopes,
you would find the brumbies sheltered neath the snow-gums on the slopes.
They had graced these mountain valleys and the flats way down below,
and I Loved to see them wild and free, hides flecked with falling snow.

We would hide among the tussocks knowing any noise could scare,
yet we sensed their nervous nature, for they knew that we were there.
Then the thunder of their hooves, when frightened by the slightest sound,
as they raced away to higher ground where safety could be found.

Sixty years have passed on by since last I viewed this pristine scene,
though the country hasn’t changed, it’s not the place it had once been.
For the brumbies have all gone now - and the magic has gone too,
boyhood memories are all that’s left, of life that I once knew.

In my mind’s eye I can see them now, still out there running free,
down below these snow capped hills - out where the brumbies used to be.

© T. E. Piggott

Oh be still my heart Love it - nailed it - well done Terry.

A perfect capture (no pun intended) of the situation and your words will resonate with many if you allow me to share them. Not sure if in that last line you meant to use 'caped' or had intended to use 'capped'. Either works well and IMO I actually like 'caped' as it is a little different.

Thanks Maureen

Yes use it if you wish!

Just my lousy spelling Maureen.

Cheers

Terry

Thanks Maureen

Yes use it if you wish!

Just my lousy spelling Maureen.

Cheers

Terry

Just wonderful, Terry - all your superb imagery combined with such a sense of poignancy and loss.

In my mind’s eye I can see them now, still out there running free,
down below these snow capped hills - out where the brumbies used to be.

The way you end this poem with those two lines is extremely effective. Beautiful poem.

Really liked it Terry, and totally agree with the other comments.
I like the past/present comparison you have used in the structure of the story of the brumbies. In particular the line ‘boyhood memories are all that’s left, of the life that I once knew’
Well done mate,
Ron

Thanks Catherine

I'm pleased that you enjoyed the poem -
I did wonder if I should have given it a bit more of a polish?

I can still visualize that country although it's a few years since I was last there,
We spent two holidays camped right up in the national park it's self.

I used to fly-fish the numerous small streams and rivulets - they were full of small trout.
You could still see small patches of snow high up on some mountains.

We walked or climbed much of the surrounding country - even eating the odd wild raspberries we would come across.
It's a magic place, and you could feel the aura around you, no wonder the Brumbies loved it!


Terry

Thanks Ron

It's one of those subjects that touches a lot of people.
But sadly the anti's seem to be winning.

Terry

Thank you Terry - sharing as we speak.

Hi Terry!
You have drawn on your minds eye,reflecting images imprinted in such detail as to place the reader right there on that foggy morn;
“Foggy morns would see their ghostly shapes emerging from the mist”-love the image this line depicts! Love the poem!

As you know Terry, I've spent a lot of time in the area where culling is currently taking place in the Snowy Mountains.It's one of the most magical areas regardless of the season but to my mind, winter brings scenes that top them all and if you're lucky enough to encounter brumbies while journeying through the area, well that's the icing on the cake! Sadly I fear madness has prevailed. Your poem paints a very real picture Terry!

Cheers
Sue