The entrance gate

 

I always wanted to live in the country where the wild things are and being able rove around without the crowds but with the fresh smell of nature and the sky is clear and the constant sound of traffic is far, far away. I wanted to able to sit on the porch and watch a flash of lightning brighten up the night sky as the homeward flying swifts rush straight back to their nests to feed their chicks one last time before the dark of night moving stealthily takes control. Then all is calm until the night dwellers appear silently like the owls hooting their presence and the bats swoop high and low trying to catch the remaining insects which were trying to find a safe haven for the night. As I step back indoors leaving my boots at the door my wife is busy in the kitchen preparing our evening meal, smiling sweetly at me saying “Just a few more minutes and it will be ready”. So I go to the bathroom in order to clean up and just then the phone rings and my wife takes it chatting away still as I return . “Who was that?”  I asked. “It was Jenny wanting to come and visit this weekend”.  “Oh that’s okay. It’s about time we saw the grandchildren again. I’ll make sure the chained entrance gate is clear for when she comes.”

Illustration found at www.pixabay.com

The revenant

What am I doing in this urban sprawl
A place of dirt and crowds and threat of crime
When parking a car it will cost the earth
With myriad strangers but friends are few
The key to happiness is just not here
Misfortune always shows as front page news
People talk in languages I'm not akin
Disaster always on everyones lips
So I'm off; close the book and pack my case
I have ranged so far and lost my roots
Oh to exit this claustrophobic place

It's time for me to don my hiking boots
To find the sweet scent of country life
To grow up like the mountain tops so high
Steams and rivers flowing to wide blue sea
Fluttering leafy trees wave just for me
Chairs on porches lush fruit on the vine
Please calm me with the stillness of your night
Then entice me with the fresh scent of dawn
Surprise me with pleasant views far and wide
You have proved your case there is room for me
My country town's waiting to be my bride 

Image found at www.pixabay.com

John Clare

I never used to write poetry
Until I found the man
That forever changed my view
On such rhyming verse
So then I thought, I can

Writing of his world for all to see
John Clare's work spoke to me
Peasant poet, he was called
Seeing through his eyes
Although a troubled man

His style was of course rural poesy
Taking readers with him
To that world many years past
Simple rural life
Read him, you'll be a fan

Here is his sonnet "I love to hear the evening crows go by"

I love to hear the evening crows go by
And see the starnels darken down the sky
The bleaching stack the bustling sparrow leaves
And plops with merry note beneath the eaves
The old and lated pigeon bounces by
As if a wary watching hawk was nigh
While far and fearing nothing high and slow
The stranger birds to distance places go
While short of flight the evening robin comes
To watch the maiden sweeping out the crumbs
Nor fears the shout of passing boy
But pecks about the door and sings with joy
Then in the hovel where the cows are fed
Finds till the morning comes a pleasant bed

Starnels -Starlings

British poet John Clare b 1793 d 1864

Image from www.http://www.australianauctionreview.com.au

Our Summer treat

We saw so many stars at the farm
The sky there seemed to be twice as big
As the rising moon winked down at us

The wind too sang a different song
From the gusty lanes of our city home
As grandma wrapped us up off the bus

For this was our usual summer treat
Finding ourselves running free again
Through woods and streams without mother's fuss

She'd surely freak out at what we did
By helping Granddad at milking time
Attaching the machine was a plus

Then we walked to the high rocky peak
Seeing the wide plain reaching the sea
Lay on the grass with new words to cuss

How I miss those days of long ago
I had learned so much by running free
Cities are like being in a truss

Image 1 found at https://rosemoon.wordpress.com/2012/05/31/morning-milking-bernard-and-pearl/
Image 2 found at https://www.travelvictoria.com.au/lavershill/photos/

Swarms of flies

Swarms of flies flew around the house
Their crops had failed again this year
Dying stock, not a drop of rain
Winds now blew to worsen the pain

They blew and moaned the whole night long
And whistled through the woods 'til morn
They woke their farm had been stolen
Their hopes their dreams now were fallen

She looked at him her face in tears
Worried for him but said out loud
"There's no soil left in which to sow
We need to pack our things and go"

Standing there stoic to the last
He stared throught the open window
"Get the valuables, sell them all
We will survive the rain will fall"

"Now here's the deal get to your dad's
Try to earn some money down there"
She masked her face now filled with pain
And set off down the open plain

She never saw her man again
Their farm failed, his body ne'er found 
Soon the bank then repossesses
She opened shop selling dresses


Image found at www.pinterest.com

Picnic on the hill

We walked to the top of the hill
Hand in hand not saying a word
Butterflies fluttered over grass green
We looked over the dazzling scene

Sun now shining on the valley
Farmer on tractor, barking dog
Where brown cows munched their daily fill
Us sprawled out on this flowery hill

The river below flows slowly on
At the copse edge a fox unseen
But by me as I kiss your nose
Fondling each other oh so close

I trace my fingers over your face
As you reach up to touch my palms
We hear the songbirds high above
Singing aloud that we're in love

I press my lips upon your cheek
Sun bows shyly behind a cloud
As we roll around with such delight
Thermos, tomatoes put to flight

We then hear other walkers come
Across our once idyllic field
Neaten our clothes and ravaged site
They pass, our smiles are blushing bright

Image found at http://www.melbournehotelconferences.com

Just Jim

Just Jim was his name
He was old and thin
And his gaze told of better days

Wandered by himself
Scorning lifts in cars
Trudging the road was life for him

I saw him once 
In a clover field
Watching the clouds drift slowly by

Then by running stream
Did ease his parched thirst
In August's month of flaring sun

Tiny was his footprint
Broad his winsome smile
In sand dunes or the melting snow

He laughed with such joy
Midst some milkweed plants
Then thick with Monarch butterflies

He loved this wild world
And saw more than most
Happy no doubt to perish there

Image found at wwhw.sciencemag.org

Road less travelled

The road less travelled
Always is the one for me
From crowds I will flee

Birds song, sun beams down
You'll see much more day and night
Slow pace is just right

Tractors plow the fields
Grapepickers wave as you pass
Catlle munching grass

Relax on you way
Just why pick the faster route
It does not compute

Image found at www.eurocamp.co.uk/

It's spring again

It's Spring again
Larks are rising
Ascending to have a talk
While I take a country walk

Woodpecker knocks
Minnows darting
In the cooling forest streams
This the season of my dreams

Buds are bursting
Tadpoles wriggle
From clustered grapes of frog spawn
Lamb babes skip from early dawn

So this is life
I am awake
No need to prick my flesh now
Farmers out with horse and plough

As evening falls
Nightingales sing
This my temple of delight
Spring you are my one true light

I lay down now 
My day is done
Spring like heady wine has spoke
Sleep now wraps me with her cloak

Image of lark rising found at www.missjacobsonsmusic.blogspot.com

Rural sounds

Neighbours are such a funny lot
Some may chat but others not
Others moan and take you for a fool
As kids laugh in the paddling pool
And jump all still wet and clammy
Which pleases me and wife Tammie
They'll wake you up at morning's light
Which make your dog bark out with fright
With brutal music that you hate
That upsets us all and makes us late

I dream of living with neighbours far
For rural sounds are all I care
The chattering of birds on wing
My wife as happily she sings
Air so fresh that we all breathe in
Far from the urban smog and din
Call me proud even call me dense
Stay far from those that cause offence
Keep away from the city's grime
For this is where I'll spend my time


Image 2 found at www.elfadely.blogspot.com

Hungry for the bush

I must leave the city
Wail and thrum of traffic
The noise and the clatter
Endless inane chatter
No friends just enemies
With no faint praise for me
Road works and lots of jerks
Everyone a stranger
Bright lights and back street fights
Walk, don't walk, traffic lights
City darkness goodbye
Thanks a lot, had my fill

I'm hungry for the bush
Need to take that trip soon
Thirsty for the country life
Please counsel me no more
I've heard it all before
Heading up north right now
Loose myself in the woods
See eagles fly up high
Wilderness here I come
Back to my true blue home
Praise the hills for their calm
Off to my place of rest

Australian terms used: Bush         - Outback country living 
                                   True Blue  - Real Australian

Adelaide main shopping area  Image 1 found at www.adelaidenow.com.au
Mt. Remarkable National Park Image 2 found at www.pinterest.com

My Country Town

What am doing in this urban sprawl?
Place of dirt and crowds and threat of crime
Where to park a car will cost a fine
Myriad strangers but friends are few
The key to happiness is just not there
Doom and misfortune as front page news
Disaster always on everyone's lips
Languages spoken that I am not akin
I'm no match, close this book, pack my case
I'm going from this claustrophobic place
I have ranged too far and lost my roots
It's time for me to don my hiking boots
To find that sweet smell of country life
The living growing mountain tops so high
Streams and rivers flowing to wide blue sea
Leafy trees fluttering wave just for me
Chairs on porches, lush fruit on the vine
Thrill me will the stillness of your night
And hit me with your fresh scent of dawn
Wrap me with pleasant scenes far and wide
You have proved your case there's room for me
My country town is waiting for me toright

Image found at www.webuyhousesradio.com

The wind whistled

The wind whistled                                 

Calling on the rain                                                  

To share its game                                                   

While the farmer shook his head                         

His sad face flushed

It was hard enough

Without their threats

And nexus of playfulness

He still pressed on.                                                 

One field left to plough                                          

Then to rest up                                                        

For he had no cause to swear                              

Sun sank westward                                                         

Day’s list now complete

Wends his way back

To kiss his wife tenderly 

Illustration of Evelyn Harke painting found at www.pinterest.com

Don't fence me in

My sweet wife nudged me

After all these years

The city called

No, ordered I move

To the office in town

We had to shift

Or lose my job

Sweet wife had visions

Apartment with views

Balcony for tea

And all shining new

Our new luxury pad

Singing praises

Her poem of joy

I’d been a city child

Raised in a brick flat

My youth’s hell

Communal balcony

Entrance for all

Dirty windows

And constant noise

Escape to the country                    

Dancing at village hall                               

Kids riding horses 

My wife now smiles

This was now our plan

Don't fence me in

With city's railings       

Image found at www.visitsweden.com                 

Free of Traffic Lights

I love the city's sights
The traffics constant hum
The bustling mindless crowd
The busker as he shouts out loud
With a call to buy his wares

I see the flashing neon signs
Seduction at its best
For each sparkling eye
Persuading you to buy
And take your prize along

The rumble of the subway train
As I ride back home alone
Others eyes look askance
As they drift off in a trance
So many strangers in this town

But there is another me
That yearns for further fields
Where everyone you know
And the pace of life is slow
The country where I was born

The corner shop and the local pub
Where all do laugh and drink
The old farmer chats with me
Hoping that some rain he'll see
For I am welcome here

I see the nurse from the hospital
The doctor is playing cards

With the barber and others too
They all have a drink or two
As this is Friday night

It's just a walk to see some sport
It's not a cent to see my team
As a game is played upon the park
Neighbours smile at me in the dark
How I wish I lived back here

For friends will wave on Main Street
For no-one gives a hoot
The local dog turns not a hair
It is how to live without a care
So free of traffic lights

Image found at www.abc.net.au