Children in bush poetry

[Heather]

I can't believe this poem isn't better known. It is so sad and reflective. His daughter Bertha was about 2 years old when he wrote it. 1902 was a sad year for Lawson. It was the year he returned to Australian from England, the year Hannah Thornburn died, the year he fell? from a cliff and I think was separted from his wife at the time (decree of official separation granted in 1903).

BERTHA
Henry Lawson
Written Dec 1902.

Wide solemn eyes that question me,
Wee hand that pats my head –
Where only two have stroked before,
And both of them are dead.
“ah, poo-ah Daddy mine,” she says,
With wondrous sympathy –
O baby girl, you don’t know how
You break the heart in me!

Let friends and kinsfolk work their worst,
Let the world say what it will,
Your baby arms go round my neck –
I’m your own Daddy still!
And you kiss me and I kiss you,
Fresh kisses, frank and free –
Ah, baby girl, you don’t know how
You break the heart in me!

I dreamed when I was good that when
The snow showed in my hair,
A household angel in her teens
Would flit about my chair
To comfort me as I grew old;
But that shall never be –
Ah, baby girl, you don’t know how
You break the heart in me!

But one shall love me while I live
And soothe my troubled head,
And never brook an unkind word
Of me when I am dead.
Her eyes shall light to hear my name
Howe’er disgraced it be –
Ah, baby girl, you don’t know how
You help the heart in me!

[vwalla]

Stephen
One of my favourites is "The Kid" by CJ Dennis.
Val W

[Stephen Whiteside]

Thanks. Yes, I was thinking of that, too.

[Maureen K Clifford]

Banjos Frying Pan Theology is a pearler - how any one could take offence at that or find it rascist is totally beyond me.The only thing possible racist about it is calling a bloke frying pan because he is black, but when you appreciate the Australian sense of humour that’s all it is – most likely an affectionate term. It is a simple belief - no doubt wrong - the same belief as the youngs ones have in our family that when it storms the thunder is God moving his furniture and the lighting flashes as he goes from room to room turning on the light - a little yarn that we have told down the ages to them. When they grow up and get smart they realize it is just a story but then go on and tell their kids. I like Frying Pans version of snow. Never read this before but am sharing it with my mob - no worries.

Love it.

Cheers

Maureen

[Stephen Whiteside]

Thanks for that, Heather. Yes, it is beautiful. Reminds me of Woody Guthrie's relationship with his daughter. He recorded an album of songs dedicated to her. The Playschool song - "I Go Riding in my Car" (or something like that) - is one of his. What is particularly tragic about that situation is that she was badly burned when their house caught on fire (a faulty appliance), and died a day or so later, while still only a few years old. She was born before Arlo.

[Robyn]

That's lovely Heather. He's got some very heart-felt poems, hasn't he. One's that reach out and touch you.
Robyn

[Heather]

That's what poetry should do Robyn....

[keats]

Thanks for that info on Woodie Guthrie too Stephen. Didn't know that.

And of course the greatest poem from a child's point of view would have to be 'The Cockeyed Kid' by Brad Maclean.

IMHO of course!!

Neil

[Stephen Whiteside]

I'll check it out.

There's a fantastic biography of Woody Guthrie - "Woody Guthrie: A Life" by Joe Klein. Heartily recommend it.

[warooa]

Thanks for that info on Woodie Guthrie too Stephen. Didn't know that.

Neil

Hey how'd we get on to Woody Guthrie? I'll look up that book, Stephen. Forever a fan of Woody (and Arlo).

And yes . . . the Cock-Eyed Kid is something else.

Marty