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Post by Thorgrimm Halfdane on Aug 16, 2004 1:10:13 GMT -5
 Very good, Dream, I like it. I'm going to make a copy and show it to my sons  ;D  This poem and "Moonrise"started out as one piece, but each seemed take on a life of its own and so became separate poems. HUNTER'S MOON. Moongazing, Profound in its patterns. Its art, heartbeat of the Ancients. Adept in its subtleties, They understood its moods and faces. Timid, Haloed with spring mists, Soft, Laced by warming showers. Orange, Smoke smudged over dry summer fields, Imperfect, Distorted by the land’s heat. Joyful, Smiling broadly on the harvests, Mellow, Wreathed about with clouds. Stark, Rising brilliant in the winter silence, Cold, Lashed by obscuring rains. The serried changes, their lifepulse. A familiar. Now almost faded, Vanishing, In the glare of our civilisation. Yet still it tugs at our minds. Primal. Encountering the moon, Lifting full over the horizon. Surprised, We can but stare helplessly, Overwhelmed by its commanding presence. Thus enthralled, We succumb to the spell. Slipping, Into an older, More patient sense of time. Our minds slow, Keeping pace with the heavens. Yielding. The logics and reason of the day goes, Our feelings and imagination soar. Watching, As silken, Moonlight softens life’s hard edges. Noiseless, Yet bright as flame, An owl swoops from the ridgetop. Listening, We are surrounded, By a cheerfulness of crickets. Impromptu, Their concert, brings a peace unsought. Murmuring, Across the distances, We hear the Hunters. They pose, Deeper questions. In the hush, Of every moonrise, Comes a renewal. With it, The enchantment, Of an ancient mystery. :)T.
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Post by Thorgrimm Halfdane on Aug 17, 2004 4:59:07 GMT -5
Another favourite from my school days.... THE AUSTRALIAN SUNRISE.
The Morning Star paled slowly, the Cross hung low to the sea,
And down the shadowy reaches the tide came swirling free,
The lustrous purple blackness of the soft Australian night,
Waned in the grey awakening that heralded the light;
Still in the dying darkness, still in the forest dim
The pearly dew of the dawning clung to each giant limb,
Till the sun came up from the ocean, red with the cold sea mist,
And smote on the limestone ridges, and the shining tree-tops kissed;
Then the fiery Scorpion vanished, and the magpie's note was heard,
And the wind in the sheoak wavered and the honeysuckles stirred;
The airy golden vapour rose from the river breast,
The kingfisher came darting out of his crannied nest,
And the bullrushes and reed-beds put off their sallow grey
And burnt with cloudy crimson at the dawning of the day. James L. Cuthbertson. :)T.
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Post by Thorgrimm Halfdane on Aug 19, 2004 0:24:11 GMT -5
This is one of my sister's earlier poems ODE TO AN ELEPHANT. Heavily, with trunk of grey the elephant goes on his way. With a footstep here, and a footstep there He manages without a care his ivory tusks, in brilliant hues are very useful at barbeques And though his size may make you start He really is quite kind at heart So cherish every time you meet an elephant in the street And do not treat his large dimensions With quite so many apprehensions. :)T. |
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Post by Dream Loxley on Aug 19, 2004 4:44:55 GMT -5
;D  Loves Elephants. I have posted this one before but it always makes me stop and take a moment....... Leisure
William Henry Davies
What is life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
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Post by Thorgrimm Halfdane on Aug 19, 2004 19:43:33 GMT -5
*sighs* Yes Dream .... How I do cherish those "quiet" moments Thank you for sharing ;D Here's another rhyme for the children ..... WHAT IS THAT NOISE? What is that noise, which is so happy and bright? It is all the Birds greeting, the first morning light. What is that noise, which clip - clops far away? It could be the Farmer, with his horse and dray. What is that noise, which is so lovely and grand? It might be an Orchestra, playing down on the Strand. What is that noise, which sounds so deep and forlorn? It is the lonesome wail of a Steamship’s fog horn. What is that noise, which makes such a squeak? It’s that tiny Mouse over there, giving you cheek. What is that noise, which roars through the trees? It is the cold Winter Wind, that makes everything freeze. What is that noise, which does mutter and groan? It’s that old Ghost in the attic, having a moan. What is that noise, which hums all day long? It’s the Bees in the flowers, singing their song. What is that noise, which rings out from the tower? It is the big Town Hall Clock, chiming the hour. What is that noise, which makes me feel happy and free? It’s a Kookaburra laughing, in that gum tree. What is that noise, which makes children play? It is the sound of the School Bell, at the end of the day. What is that noise, which is so calming yet bright? It is the Magpies carolling, in the twilight. What is that noise, which is so soft and so slight? It is the warm Evening Breeze, whispering goodnight. I wrote it with my Granddaughter in mind :)T.
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Post by Dream Loxley on Aug 20, 2004 2:40:36 GMT -5
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Post by Thorgrimm Halfdane on Aug 21, 2004 8:28:08 GMT -5
I was recently given a book of poems by Michael Leunig, an Australian writer and artist. His works can best be described as quirky How to Get There.
Go to the end of the path until you get
to the gate.
Go through the gate and head straight
out towards the horizon.
Keep going towards the horizon.
Sit down and have a rest every now
and again,
But keep on going, just keep on with it.
Keep on going as far as you can.
That's how you get there.But I'll leave you to make up your own minds :)T. |
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Post by Dream Loxley on Aug 21, 2004 8:36:58 GMT -5
I would have to stop once in a while for coffee My Dad always told me that if I wanted to get somewhere bad enough....then I could always catch a bus ;D
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Post by Thorgrimm Halfdane on Aug 21, 2004 20:26:29 GMT -5
Just so long as you know how to get there Dream, that's the important thing. ;D PRELUDE.
I have gathered these stories afar,
In the wind and the rain,
In the land where the cattle camps are,
On the edge of the plain.
On the overland routes of the west,
When the watches were long,
I have fashioned in earnest and jest
These fragments of song.
They are just the rude stories one hears
In sadness and mirth,
The records of wandering years,
And scant is their worth.
Though their merits indeed are but slight,
I shall not repine,
If they give you one moment's delight,
Old comrades of mine.A.B "Banjo" Paterson - 1895 :)T.
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Post by Dream Loxley on Aug 22, 2004 2:24:01 GMT -5
Ahhhh yes......I know the way but some days its more difficult to stay on the right track. Reminds me of a song by Enya, one of my all time favourite Artists. PILGRIM
Pilgrim, how you journey
On the road you chose
To find out where the winds die
And where the stories go.
All days come from one day
That must you must know,
You cannot change what's over
But only where you go.
One way leads to diamonds,
One way leads to gold,
Another leads you only
To everything you're told.
In your heart you wonder
Which of these is true;
The road that leads to nowhere,
the road that leads to you.
Will you find the answer
in all you say and do?
Will you find the answer
In you?
Each heart is a pilgrim,
Each one wants to know
The reason why the winds die
And where the stories go.
Pilgrim, in your journey
You may travel far,
For pilgrim it's a long way
To find out who you are...
Pilgrim, it's a long way
To find out who you are...
Pilgrim, it's a long way
To find out who you are...
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Post by Robin of Loxley on Aug 22, 2004 7:41:27 GMT -5
Life is like a circle………..
There is no start nor end…….
It’s rather like a river,
Just one more bleedin bend.
But I’d rather paddle hard,
Just “one more time " I say,
To spend some time with my friends,
For just a moment come what may!!.
Hey Guys...........just ta let ya know i'm thinking of yers all *VBS*......Hopefully will be back more oft soon *S*
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Post by Dream Loxley on Aug 22, 2004 8:53:53 GMT -5
*chuckles* Keep paddling Mister Loxley you might win the Gold! |
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Post by Thorgrimm Halfdane on Aug 22, 2004 17:15:03 GMT -5
*laughs* ;D Goodonyermate!! Looking forward to doing some r/p with you  btw Dream, the Aussie rowers have been picking some of the Gold ;D AUSSIE!AUSSIE!AUSSIE!OI!OI!OI! ;D
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Post by Dream Loxley on Aug 23, 2004 3:14:07 GMT -5
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Post by Halethala on Aug 23, 2004 23:47:58 GMT -5
Yeeuuuummm! *presents self for Chocolate medal and avoids mentioning the almost obscene amount of US medals*
Wow . . I remember as a kid singing what surely must have been an Aussie inspired round for our 4-H club meetings:
Kookaburra sits in an old gum tree-ee
Merry merry king of the bush is he-ee
Laugh Kookaburra
Laugh Kookaburra
Gay your life must be . .
*g* sound familiar? Is there more to it?
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Very good, Dream, I like it.
;D 
This poem and "Moonrise"started out as one piece, but each seemed take on a life of its own and so became separate poems. 
Loves Elephants.
To Mister T 