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.
By Lynn Elder
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
By Lynn Elder
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.
By Lynn Elder
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!".
By Lynn Elder
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.
Winter By Lynn Elder
Winter steals our blue skies
and replaces them with yearnings for wood fires.
When rain-drenched clouds
above the paddocks crowd
a sense of gloominess descends,
bringing a desire to seek out friends
to indulge in wine and song,
while the season of winter stays too long.
Escape to the High Country... 