ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Something to Remember

The homeless man lay wretchedly beside the filthy stream
that trickled through the city like a disillusioned dream,
with rancid food and plastic rubbish choking any chance
of possible improvement – this was clear at merest glance.
Respecting any boundaries the bloke might still retain
I crouched and lightly touched him, and he pulled away in pain,
sat back with fear and warning in his creased, insipid eyes
that brimmed with hopelessness and anguish he could not disguise.
I offered him some water, slowly coaxed him to his feet,
eventually persuaded him to walk towards the street,
where unsung heroes waited to provide him soup and bread,
accommodation for the night, a place to rest his head…
He didn’t seem to understand just why I’d stopped that night,
yet felt compassion in my touch – a tiny gleam of light.

The foreigner came crashing to the ground outside the pub,
blood flowing from his temple as he crawled towards the scrub,
apparently to try to hide - the angry men advanced,
(he clearly hadn’t known it was the worst place to have chanced,
with rough and racist yobbos ever thirsting for a fight
when fuelled with booze from knock-off time till late into the night).
Approaching him, I spoke my truth with quiet words and clear
to reassure him of my help, “I’ll get you out of here.”
My mates faced his attackers, we outnumbered them by three -
they swore and turned their backs, returned inside reluctantly.
We took the guy to hospital, ensuring he could stay.
With unsung heroes nursing him we knew he’d be okay…
He hadn’t understood the words I’d whispered in his ear,
but simply by the tone and smile, had felt they were sincere.

The matted mess at first appeared discarded, grubby sack,
yet as I passed it something made me hesitate, walk back.
And then I heard a whimper, and my heart leapt in my chest –
I placed my hand upon the bag and very gently pressed.
The whimper soon became a yelp, and very carefully
I opened up the bundle, and my tears flowed silently.
Five puppies, vulnerable and new, were squirming round inside,
mistrustful mother growling as pathetically she tried
to warn me off, protect her young despite her feeble frame.
I cursed all those who’d do this, feeling bitterness and shame.
With patient, soft cajoling, drove to vet for scrutiny,
where unsung heroes treated them, maintained their unity…
She hadn’t understood my speech, but slowly grew aware
I wasn’t there to harm them – surely felt my love and care.

We cannot underestimate the things we do or say,
with force to wound with cruelty or brighten someone’s day.
It doesn’t take much effort to observe, remain alert
to others who are grieving, under stress, or badly hurt.
In counting every blessing and in savouring the now,
we learn to foster gratitude, appreciating how
important is each living being’s place upon the Earth,
respect’s a two-way street, and what true empathy is worth.
This life is full of heroes - some are feted, some unsung.
Though we might not be this, we can aspire to guide our tongue,
our attitudes and actions, be the ones who keep the peace
in simple little ways and maybe bring someone release…
We may not grasp this fully, but should always keep in mind
above all else, before we speak, it’s crucial to be kind.

© Catherine Lee, Jan 2025

Oh Wow! Catherine that is another prize winning poem IMO - just beautifully crafted and some wonderful lines in there - the first two lines pack a punch well above their weight, and then the tear jerker - the brave little puppies and their Mum.

Ones tone of voice and a smile will always get the message of kindness and compassion across, even if the language is not understood. This is a wonderful write

Thank you so much, Maureen, I’m so pleased you like it! Yes, it is true what you say about the tone of voice and smile – and over the years I have learnt (and often still quote), that “A smile speaks all languages”. I really appreciate your very warm feedback; thank you once again xx

Hi Catherine,

1. (from your other post) Bush rhyming poets necessarily share themselves in their writing I think .. exposing their life experiences and attitudes. Yes, there will always be, as you say, "the most wonderful encouragement and support here on this very special and trusted Forum."

I believe readers are genuinely interested in the Poet/Writer. What that person has experienced in their life, and attitudes. (and a peripatetic lifestyle must have produced challenges and stories aplenty) By being candid and sharing, a writer surely endears themself to others.

Your Promises of Spring saw 10,159 views. (Sept 2023) and generated 10 separate commentary posts. I mean.. 10,000 !!
So posting poems here must be very satisfying too.

.................

2. Something To Remember

Your verse.... line 27-28

He hadn’t understood the words I’d whispered in his ear,
but simply by the tone and smile, had felt they were sincere.
I am left wondering what those words could have been.

Something To Remember is interesting and certainly readily attributable to you even without the author's name appended. My knowledge as it is, is limited to bush ballad verse so commenting is difficult. Except to say it is vibrant and expressive. Enjoyable and entertaining.

I remember walking down the main street of Perth and seeing a big bundle of rags on the footpath! Puzzling. What was that doing there?? Closer inspection revealed what appeared to be a person ensconced in the bundle. Luckily I had walked around it and not stood on or kicked it! Or worse, attempted to purloin them for the workshop.
That experience generated all sorts of feelings, not all politically correct ones either, so I can relate to your first verse. It seemed to me like a scene from The Goon Show with Eccles emerging from the rags, but then that was my odd sense of humour.

Yes, as you say.. despite the faults we have (and I have many) ... kindness to others is the No. 1 aim, and we can but do our imperfect best I guess.

Gary

Excellent as usual Catherine

A perfect trifecta in my opinion, great use of the prompts,
and displaying your outstanding ability in the use of descriptive language.

Terry

Love it Catherine, that is a beautiful poem.
Well constructed and such thoughtful poignant word pictures it paints.
And although in a poem they could be, sadly, of real situations on the streets of the homeless.
Very moving thank you.

Cheers
Ron.

Just fabulous, Catherine! What more can I say?

Cheers
Shelley

Well, I am blown away by this wonderful feedback from you all - thank you so, so much, Gary, Terry, Ron and Shelley! I am so pleased you liked it.