ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Hey everybody!!! Sorry I haven't dropped in more often, always too much to do. But I did manage to write a few poems lately. They just seem to be pouring out at the moment and I can't type fast enough to catch them.

I saw a painting of an old worn out pair of boots and sweaty hat and this story popped out -



Jim Said …
by Kym Eitel

Jim said that no pony could match her.
He said “there’s no other for me”.
He said she was clever, quick thinking,
sure-footed and honest as he.

He’d found her, alone in the mountains,
a brumby foal, hungry and weak.
The trusting young orphan was chestnut,
dark eyed with a lightning bolt streak.

He trained her to campdraft and barrel.
They always brought home gold and blue.
There never has been horse and rider
much closer a pair than those two.

Jim said that the mare was real special.
He said she was worth more than gold.
He said if she died, he would too, though
the brumby was nowhere near old.

Tears brimmed at the thought of her leaving.
He sniffed and continued to speak.
He said if she died, he would take her
to the mountain top’s highest most peak.

His love for her showed in his actions,
and so too, she surely loved Jim.
He constantly sang the mare’s praises,
but never said much about him.

Last Monday, my Jim met his maker.
His time on this earth was cut short.
He’d never made plans for his passing,
his send-off is mine now to sort.

The boots on his coffin are polished.
His sweat-stained hat lays by their side.
A small sprig of bright yellow wattle
goes with them for Jim’s final ride.

I carry the urn with Jim’s ashes
through paddocks and through Reedy Creek.
His brumby mare follows beside me
to the mountain top’s highest most peak.

Our farmhouse is there in the distance,
way down in the valley below,
and now, on the sweet breeze of freedom,
I cry as I let them both go.


Kym.

You've done it again Kym, beautiful mate just beautiful, Pat Morish from ABC would definately have a tear with this one.

Beautiful Kym - just beautiful. Mo more needs to be said

Cheers

Maureen

Amen.

Great to see you back Kymmie . . . loverly poem. All that excess H2O floating about your neck of the woods must be getting the creative juices flowing, ay?

Cheers, Marty

G'day Kym,

Now that you (and those horses) have had a little rest, the 'big boys' had better shapen up their pencils. I see some more trophies coming your way. I love the short lines in this one. It is evident you have a deep love of horses. Did you say you know Ronnie Weal? She shares your love of everything equine.

I am in a rut of 14 syllable lines -14/14 - every line of equal length, or alternate 14/10 lines. I don't know if I should worry about it, or just let it take it's course, til suddenly something totally different falls out. Oh well I am too busy to worry so I have answered myself I suppose.

Yep! Clear the decks - we both have words to capture.

Hi everyone, thanks for your lovely comments. I've had bit of a poetry drought lately, but I started an exciting new project and now with all the new stimulus, poems are just popping out. In the last two days, I've written five poems, all soooo different, and there are still more fighting to get written.

The story for this poem "Jim Said ..." started after talking to an old fellow about a brumby he caught as a foal. He said she was the best horse he'd ever had, and laughed as he said that if she ever died, he'd just have to retire cos he could never replace her. It wasn't until I got home that I wondered what would happen if HE died first. Then I saw the boots and hat painting (done in boot polish, I might add), and the two ideas just clicked together.

I realise now that writing doesn't just come from the imagination. We need to see new things and speak to new people to keep our ideas fresh. We only have limited information of our own to draw on, and once that has been used up, we need to refresh it from other sources.

OK, I've gotta go. I've got a snow poem brewing, and a sand verse stewing. Gotta go let 'em out ...

See ya',

Kym.

Yep Zondrae, I also get stuck in the same-patterned-metre and same-patterened-rhyme rut, I guess that's just how our brain works best. BUT, having said that, I wrote a completely wacky rhyme-pattern poem a few days ago. I'll post it for you - check out Driftwood Dreaming.

See ya',

K.

Beautiful poem Kym.

It must be the season for it. I have been in a bit of a rut lately as well, haven't written anything at all for a while and for an even longer while everything has been pretty much like Zondrae said. Then yesterday that little internal rhyming thing popped out, so hopefully the ice might be breaking. Fingers crossed.

Lovely poem Kym - lucky I've already got the tissues on hand. Good to see you writing and posting again.

I realise now that writing doesn't just come from the imagination. We need to see new things and speak to new people to keep our ideas fresh. We only have limited information of our own to draw on, and once that has been used up, we need to refresh it from other sources.

You are so right Kym. We need to have new experiences and meet new people to get inspiration. It's almost like a spark sets it off. I'm in a bit of a drought too and hope it will break soon.

Heather