LOST IN THE BUSH
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LOST IN THE BUSH
There are plenty of examples of bush verse which celebrate the bush as, heroic, nostalgic, romantic, beautiful, inspiring and sentimentally attractive. Some people find the bush to be hostile, bewildering, dangerous and even deadly.
LOST IN THE BUSH
I've lost my place in the mystic maze
of the bush, where the ants have set their ways
and feral pigs tear the fallow ground
near the spoor that the wild goats mark around.
The heat beats down,
the creeks are dry,
and all that red dust burns my eyes.
Can't find the way on the trackless track
where the polished crows are black as black,
and gouging beaks clean the flesh from bone
of the ones who lie out there, alone.
The heat beats down,
the wind is dry,
and all that red dust burns my eyes.
I fear to walk in the dark dark night
where goannas creep and dingos bite.
The stars that wink from the great expanse
are no comfort to the soul's mischance.
The night turns cold,
my mouth is dry,
red dust will shroud me when I die.
So when a thousand years have passed,
where the mulga scrub is grey and parched
and the wind has whispered secret words
that no-one knows and none have heard.
The heat will glare,
the creeks run dry.
Who'll dream of those that once passed by.
LOST IN THE BUSH
I've lost my place in the mystic maze
of the bush, where the ants have set their ways
and feral pigs tear the fallow ground
near the spoor that the wild goats mark around.
The heat beats down,
the creeks are dry,
and all that red dust burns my eyes.
Can't find the way on the trackless track
where the polished crows are black as black,
and gouging beaks clean the flesh from bone
of the ones who lie out there, alone.
The heat beats down,
the wind is dry,
and all that red dust burns my eyes.
I fear to walk in the dark dark night
where goannas creep and dingos bite.
The stars that wink from the great expanse
are no comfort to the soul's mischance.
The night turns cold,
my mouth is dry,
red dust will shroud me when I die.
So when a thousand years have passed,
where the mulga scrub is grey and parched
and the wind has whispered secret words
that no-one knows and none have heard.
The heat will glare,
the creeks run dry.
Who'll dream of those that once passed by.
Neville
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
- Maureen K Clifford
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Re: LOST IN THE BUSH
Oh there will always be someone passing by to reminisce, brush off the dust and put some native flowers on your gravesite Neville - but in a thousand years- oh maybe not, chances are good none of us will be left here then
Really liked this - all jokes aside the repeated refrain worked well IMO - and agree that the bush is often a scary place to be especially if you are on your own
Cheers
Maureen


Really liked this - all jokes aside the repeated refrain worked well IMO - and agree that the bush is often a scary place to be especially if you are on your own
Cheers
Maureen
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
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Re: LOST IN THE BUSH
Thanks Marty, " upbeat and jaunty " ? I'll have to meditate on that
Thanks Maureen. The bush was here long before we came, maybe it will be here long after we go and it doesn't care either way about us. Did I say that ? I was sort of hoping to.
Then again, maybe it's not just about the bush.

Thanks Maureen. The bush was here long before we came, maybe it will be here long after we go and it doesn't care either way about us. Did I say that ? I was sort of hoping to.
Then again, maybe it's not just about the bush.

Neville
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
Re: LOST IN THE BUSH
You’ve got time
It’s a lonely place away out back.
miles away from the beaten track.
Your dog and horse, and the cattle of coarse,
as you bring up the rear, behind the mob.
It’s a lonely place, and there’s no disgrace
As you walk along at a shuffling pace.
Twelve miles a day, you’ll here them say.
It’s a lonely place, when you tail the mob
The leaders see where they are going
Wing men keep them moving all along
I’ll move them up, and don’t let them tarry.
It’s a lonely place, when you’re in the rear.
I’ll see willy willys, and the dust it flies
an old red roo, from the shade he’ll rise
as an emu walks, with his chicks in tow.
But it’s a lonely place, away out back
Bill the old battler
It’s a lonely place away out back.
miles away from the beaten track.
Your dog and horse, and the cattle of coarse,
as you bring up the rear, behind the mob.
It’s a lonely place, and there’s no disgrace
As you walk along at a shuffling pace.
Twelve miles a day, you’ll here them say.
It’s a lonely place, when you tail the mob
The leaders see where they are going
Wing men keep them moving all along
I’ll move them up, and don’t let them tarry.
It’s a lonely place, when you’re in the rear.
I’ll see willy willys, and the dust it flies
an old red roo, from the shade he’ll rise
as an emu walks, with his chicks in tow.
But it’s a lonely place, away out back
Bill the old battler
- Maureen K Clifford
- Posts: 8153
- Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
- Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
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Re: LOST IN THE BUSH
Hi Bill - I really like this one - just a thought to keep the rhyme going why not use
The leaders see where they are going
Wing men keep them moving, flowing
I’ll move them up, and don’t let them tarry.
It’s a lonely place, when you’re in the rear.
Cheers
Maureen
The leaders see where they are going
Wing men keep them moving, flowing
I’ll move them up, and don’t let them tarry.
It’s a lonely place, when you’re in the rear.
Cheers
Maureen
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
Re: LOST IN THE BUSH
Thanks Maureen Just thought of that just before I put it in the forum that word fits well I tried to keep the thoughts of isolation and feelings of lonelyness in the piece
thanks once again
Bill
thanks once again
Bill
Re: LOST IN THE BUSH
I and a mate of city living went to baby sit a farm whilst the family took a well earned break on the coast. I thought with a liittle knowledge we could cope with the tasts of checking stock each day One hundred thousands acres of low malley scrub was daunting and although there were tracks ,there was no features like mountains or high tree lines to guide. I think by the end of the week the cattle come looking for us.
- Maureen K Clifford
- Posts: 8153
- Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
- Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
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Re: LOST IN THE BUSH
Laughed when I read that Noel cause I have the navigational skills of a newt and I don't know how many times I got bushed out on the property. The only saving grace was that if you climbed to the top of the hill you could see the cleared Dingo fenceline snaking through Sundown National Park and if you headed that way that was where home was. Saved me lots of time. Funny thing is now living in the city of Ipswich I still get lost , but go to a high spot - pick out a hill on the range I have named 'nipple hill' head in that direction and usually find my way home.
same scenario - different time and place.
same scenario - different time and place.

Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
- Bob Pacey
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Re: LOST IN THE BUSH
Ok Maureen I'll come in . Why do you call it Nipple hill ?
This could get bad.
Bob
This could get bad.
Bob
The purpose in life is to have fun.
After you grasp that everything else seems insignificant !!!
After you grasp that everything else seems insignificant !!!