Of all the seasons, I have one that is dear Not one that brings lots of fear Due to storms and massive rain That do bring damage and pain.
A season that is mild and still Where mists can swirl until A warm sun breaks through the cloud While a farmer has his crops sowed.
The icy fingers of winter are yet to arrive But a touch of dew does give A sense of coolness yet to come That will make your body numb.
No other season can give such golden hues And call for blessings from the pews While nature chooses from the richest spectrum Of colours to woo us all so we all left dumb.
By Lynn Elder
Slow and sluggish during times of scarcity
Fast and furious when abundance reigns
And just a steady stream of activity in between.
Crescendos as water pours over rocky cascades,
Tranquil and still during times of less rain.
Sparkling as a jewel on a sunny day
Gloomy as the darkest winter's day.
The river travels far, not always aware of its destination.
But end the river must, if it is to become part of something bigger.
The river, a metaphor for my life.
When the skies turn bright blue and baking hot,
That is when a creature will seek out,
A respite from the blazing sun above,
And take a splash in water they do so love.
The echidna feels the heat as the mercury soars,
And gives him reason to pause,
Chasing busy ants with his probing beak,
And consider taking a break.
From the ant heap to the verandah, he does roam,
For there, he senses that at this home,
Lies untold luxury into which he does clamber,
A water bowl to wash, and then to slumber.
If one rose can bring so much pleasure
How much more joy can a bunch bring
Or even a basket full.
A blooming bush bursting with buds is a delight,
As is a huge climbing rose full of heavenly scent.
Make a garden bed full of roses to enjoy,
Or a whole garden dedicated to the rose and stroll about at leisure.
By Lynn Elder
Oh, what personality does spring display
When it thinks it is time to play.
Spring can be so fickle,
Also, so changeable.
Spring can be a myriad of colours
As bursting buds bring forth the flowers,
Then disappear in a breeze,
With the sudden arrival of a wintry freeze.
There is a promise of radiant sunshine,
For which we did all through winter pine,
For a return of some warmth to bask in,
And feel the sensation on our skin.
Spring does have a gentle side to its personality,
Amidst all the activity and vitality.
Blossom petals fall softly like light bird feathers,
And newborn lambs and calves snuggle against mothers,
To herald in the hope and joy of spring.
It was such joy to be part of this fun project with so many talented bloggers sharing their creative gifts. Andrea’s illustrations were the starting point for the children’s poems and short stories that were contributed. I came up with a story about cats shopping on-line would you believe! Her blog post below will steer you in the direction of how to obtain your own copy. Happy reading!
About 4 months ago, I posted a silly idea of making a book together. I asked people to write a short story or poem based on any of the drawings on my website.
It quickly became clear that more than just a few were interested. More than 20 authors have submitted their story and I am so happy to announce that from today on, the collection is stories accompanied with colorful drawings are available on Amazon either as ebook, paperback or hardcover!
It look amazing and I can’t thank everyone enough for sharing their talent and support with me!
If you would like a copy, check on of the links below!
The icy embrace of snowy climes soon brings autumn to its knees.
No good praying for it not to be when winter arrives on time.
Artic blasts keep temperatures in check while us mere mortals shiver,
And slosh about in rubber boots to keep the water out.
By Lynn Elder
Grey clouds form a leaden sky
Above the black cattle grazing below.
Tree trunks are blackened
By the dampness they absorb
From heavy downpours
Released from above.
Dimming daylight alternates
Between the various shades
Of white, grey and black.
Birds and pets alike match
The colour scheme of the day.
Listen to the crashing waves,
Hear the cry of a lonely gull,
Feel the sting of the salty sea.
Hear the screams of a girl,
Young and frail,
As the giant waves,
Wash her away.
The waves whip the body away,
Far away from the sandy shore.
To the sea it doesn't matter,
Who dies in its icy depths.
When the sea is still,
And the flock of gulls,
Fly overhead,
None could believe,
That the sea could take a life.
The wedding day is only part of the journey of never ending love! Photo: Lynn Elder
What is love?
Some say it is an itchy feeling around the heart.
Is it endless declarations of undying love of Shakespearean proportions?
Maybe it is the act of loving someone or something more than yourself?
But don’t forget you need to love yourself before you can truly love others!
Love is many things to many people,
True love may be hard to find or follows a rocky path.
But love is never controlling or boastful.
It is not spiteful or hateful.
As they say love makes the world go ‘round,
And as my granny says “love is blind” but neighbours ain’t!
If St Valentine’s Day is a load of sentimental trash for some
And an economic boon for others,
Fear not because the love you receive and give,
Is of no less value on any other day!
My love is like a red, red rose…Robert Burns
My poetic take on St Valentine’s Day. My husband booked dinner out for the two of us last year but on the day, the state of Victoria was plunged into another lockdown! I saw in my social media memories today that I cooked a roast lamb dinner and apple crumble for desert last year so I must have still showed my love. But my darling husband has booked a table for dinner tonight which is very sweet. No lockdowns likely this year!
I have always loved the poetic works of Scottish poet Robert Burns since I was a little girl with romantic thoughts and maybe because of my Scottish ancestry. I have just discovered that the poem “My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose” has been recorded as a song by various artists including one of my favourite singers Eva Cassidy and a new one for me being Karen Matheson who does the most stunning lilting Celtic version. Decide for yourselves which one you like best. Happy St Valentine’s Day to all us romantics!
The change of seasons comes in a rush
Of hot air and wilted grasses in the bush.
No need to clear out the ash and stoke the fire
As ceiling fans whir above, and with a beer
In hand the farmer wipes the free-flowing sweat
From his sun-beaten face, and without a beat
Flicks off the pesky blowflies settled on his work shirt.
His wife tucks her tea towel in the band of her skirt,
Then says as she leans wearily against the kitchen wall.
"It's too bloody hot to eat anything at all!".
To stay or leave?
I am torn.
My heart and mind
are at odds.
What is the chance
one whispers,
of fire reaching us here.
The radio crackles.
Emergency announcement.
"If you have not already left,
it is now too late to leave."
Decision made.
This poem was included in a collection of poems published in 2021 as High Country Poets highlighting the works of local poets from Mansfield in North East Victoria, Australia. Proceeds from sales of the book go to the Mansfield Secondary College Welfare Fund.
Escape to the High Country... 