ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Travelling back

My thoughts at times they stray
traversing this long track
Forget the time of day
and view our vast outback

This old rig she holds tight
and always makes good time,
while Poets I recite,
they help me with my rhyme.

I view the landscape’s change
within this cabin warm,
from plains to mountain range
or through a thunderstorm.

How I would love to roam
just like our pioneers,
admire their scenes of home
throughout those early years.

I leave my sled of steel
with paint like sparkling gold.
Taut leather reins I feel,
I ride a dray of old.

As nature sings her song,
wild flowers sway with breeze.
Inside this billabong,
fish cruise through roots of trees.

To camp just where I like
beneath a shady tree.
A small warm fire I’ll light,
then write some poetry.

Emerging from the glow
now shadows dance their dance.
A dome of stars on show,
I’m drifting in a trance.

I live this world today,
the rushing bustling race.
What would the old folk say —
they couldn’t live this pace.

David J Delaney
04/08/2009 ©

We were ignoring David as well - shame, shame, shame - It's OK David I am doing a bit of travelling back for us.

Cheers

Maureen

We missed this one? You got to speak up a bit louder Dave above the rabble! Interesting question Dave. What would the old folk think of our modern pace? Painted some peaceful scenes there Dave.

Heather