H'work for May 2023 - WILD BRUMBIES IN THE PARK

[Maureen K Clifford]

WILD BRUMBIES IN THE PARK .. Maureen Clifford © The #ScribblyBarkPoet

There's a winter chill descending on the Snowy's plains tonight
and a whippy wind is whining through the gums
whilst above wild clouds are scudding - fairly charging 'cross the sky
as beneath the stars are quietly grazing brums.
They are there just near the tree line, close to shelter if required,
if the snowflakes might perhaps fall from the skies
Each snowflake is an Angels kiss from heaven up above
from other brums who met a sad demise.

There's nothing much to trouble them up here apart from man,
and snow will be a blessing in disguise
for it makes the tracks impenetrable to the four wheel drives
and hides the brumbies from the shooters eyes.
The stallion is on guard keeping close watch o'er his mares,
and foals who are intent on getting feed.
Some little ones are newly born - long limbed with coats quite wooly
their lanky limbs not yet quite set for speed.

The hills are still recovering from catastrophic fires
that ripped through here a year or two ago
Snow gums with blackened trunks now show a sprinkling of green
and autumn colours in the grasses show.
A distant dingo howls its song - snout lifted to the moon
that's rising slow - a luminescent sphere
to shine its light upon them, making soft coats shine and gleam
whilst turning colours into silver sheer.

The moon's bright light on winter nights sets nature's stage aglow
and southern lights can sometimes there be seen
the Aurora Australis glows behind a ridge of snow gums
silhouetted stark and black - grass trees between.
And here I sit at ease outside the hut at old Currango
close by to Tantangara - Land the wild brumbies uphold.
A log fire warm behind me and open plains before me
wrapped in a wooly winter gown, protected from the cold.


Inside newspapers line the wall - it seems 'The Sun' holds sway
from 1943 - we were at war.
A collection of rags was being held in Adelaide
and Vincent's APC cured pain for sure.
Back then our brumbies were required - they were held in esteem.
They also fought on foreign fields of war
and gave their all and more again - for not one did return
to end their days upon our Aussie shore.

But now alas they carry a new snipers killing mark,
their numbers are declining as we speak
I doubt in eighty years from now there'll be one that survives
no brumbies will run wild on Mountain peaks.
So while I can I'm collecting a memory for me
I doubt there's any others now who care.
And soon no doubt I will myself be just a memory too
though perhaps my poetry will still be there.


And if it is and others maybe take the time to read,
I hope my words might generate a spark
of interest - though word pictures can't replace reality
and will ne'er replace wild brumbies in the park.
There's a winter chill descending on the Snowy's plains tonight
and a whippy wind is whining through the gums
whilst above wild clouds are scudding - fairly charging 'cross the sky
as beneath the stars are quietly grazing brums.

1/5/2023

[Ron]

Good on you Maureen, well done.
Loved the line: 'A log fire warm behind me and open plains before me'. I have no trouble at all picturing the scenes your words created in the poem.
And once again picturing the plight of the poor brumbies!
Enjoyed the read (though sad),
Thank you,
Ron

[Maureen K Clifford]

Thank you Ron - appreciate your comment and it is indeed very sad for many Australians who are witnessing first hand the demise of our brumby herds. The Government is still 'trotting' out hugely overestimated numbers (latest was I think 6000) for Kosciusko NP and yet only this week experienced bushwalkers/photographers in the area - covering many miles of areas usually frequented by our brumbies - did a head count of just 21 horses.

[Terry]

Hi Maureen

A subject that always touches your heart and most of ours as well.
Among the many special lines in your poem, one stood out for me, purely because it brough back memories of my own families old Homestead.
I remember seeing the room that had been my fathers and his brothers with the walls lined with newspapers of those days (probably 1920/30), in their case it was mostly about sport. Sadly it all was lost when the homestead burnt down during cyclone Alby.
Back to your poem, you are quite right, one thing about being a poet is that your thoughts are always there for future generations to read.
Enjoyed your poem and the passion that shines throughout Maureen.

Terry

[Catherine Lee]

Just lovely, Maureen, and of course a sad subject very dear to your heart too - I trust you've shared it with your Brumby groups. I love the clear images in this poem; you can really see them there in your mind's eye, just quietly grazing on the plains.

[Maureen K Clifford]

Thank you Terry and Catherine for your kind words - sadly I feel that we are fighting a losing battle for our brumbies - I'm not one to give up but there comes a time when the financial ramifications of it all become quite overwhelming - Court costs have taken a huge swag of donated funds and achieved very little, newspaper, TV and radio interviews seem to be cut short or shown out of context and Jo Blow public still seems to believe what the pollies want them to believe and give little credence to those folks doing the hard yards on the ground, as opposed to the shiny bums in their high rise buildings.....and a bit like our poets - brumby supporters are all getting older - the younger generations don't have the same passion or respect for the horses, being more used to ag bikes for mustering and not having seen what these animals did during war time etc So the ones who are speaking out are sadly gray haired wrinklies these days, and heading into the same direction as our brums.

[Shelley Hansen]

Well said, Maureen - and with beautiful imagery too!

Cheers
Shelley