ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

VALE - Ellis Campbell ...

Ellis, 88, passed away peacefully this morning in Dubbo
Funeral arrangements yet to be announced ...

The tears are flowing but there is also a sense that Ellis's long trial of anxiety, depression and loss of physical capacity is now over.
We will all remember him with the greatest respect, admiration and love as a mentor, writer and friend.

Rest in peace Ellis.
Our thoughts are with Maureen, Leona and all his family in their great loss.
Hal and Brenda

Please send tributes direct to Neil for the magazine.

Sad news. Not unexpected, but a tragic loss to our Bush Poetry Family. I hope more people send in more tributes than they did when we lost Milton. Please, members, show gratitude and respect to these great poets who helped give you a platform to perform on. Don't just leave it to others.

My condolences to Ellis's Family. I will miss him dearly.

Will you?

Neil

I met Ellis a few years back at Bundaberg. He was a nice old gent. Condolences to his family and friends. Heather

I remember Ellis reciting his Blackened Billy winner at Tamworth and performing at Morisset. He seemed to me to be one of those larger-than-life people in the bush poets. A sad loss for family and friends.

Most definitely, Neil. Ellis, along with Ron Stevens, provided early inspiration and support for me, as I know he did with many others. With his background, he was able to write from first-hand experience about many aspects of our rural life that are fading (or have faded) from view. A self-taught poet, he became a master craftsman who could cover serious and humorous topics, both historical and contemporary, with ease.

I can only echo the sentiments expressed by Brenda and Hal and offer sincere condolences to Maureen, Leona and the family.

David

I never met Ellis but like all of us, I'm well aware of his standing in Bush poetry.
I did have the pleasure of talking to him on the phone once and found him a great bloke to chat with.

As Keats said, a great loss the the Bush Poetry Family.

Terry

Sincere Thoughts.
Val W

Rest in peace my beloved friend. You will be deeply mourned by us all but remembered forever with the utmost respect and admiration, not only as one of the true greats of bush poetry, but also for the wonderful person you were. Love and prayers to Maureen, Leona and the rest of the family.

Another huge loss in the ranks of poets able to speak from genuine "bush life" experience. I count myself fortunate to have come to bush poetry in time (just) to see and hear the likes of Ellis, Milton and Frank. The following tribute is dedicated to Ellis but the sentiment applies equally to other stalwarts lost to us recently. Truly, we stand on the shoulders of giants.


A Poet Passed This Way
( for Ellis )

I’ve studied all the poets, native born and foreign bred,
grateful for their light that helped me find the way ahead.
But as I lay my pen aside, with “Finis” drawing near,
I find I have no lamp to light the course I now must steer.

The way ahead’s uncertain, there’s no map to guide my feet.
Unarmed, except by faith, I face the fate all creatures meet.
Truth, honesty and dignity were all I had to give.
I only hope that, when I’m gone, some lines of mine might live.

But...who are these who gather by my bedside in the gloom?
And look!...the gloom turns golden as they crowd into the room.
There are faces here I recognise and some I feel I know.......
surely, these are poets that I learned from, years ago?

A gentle hand upon my breast...a keen, yet kindly, eye...
“It’s time that you were moving on, Old Chap, so we came by
to sort of bring you up to speed on what needs to be done
by coves like you who come to join the likes of us, Old Son.

“Now, you can call me Henry; and this bloke, he’s known as ‘Den’
and Will here, he’s a scotsman...p’raps a kinsman, d’ye ken?
They call this feller ‘Banjo’ …and there’s mates of yours here too...
who’ve earned the title ‘Poet’.......we’ve a place reserved for you.

See, God has weighed our efforts and He’s given us the job
of droving would-be poets...mate, they are a motley mob!
To keep ’em on the right track and make sure that they don’t stray
too far from rhyme and rhythm...or to try to anyway.

We span this wide land over, seeking out the eye that sees;
the heart and mind that yearns to learn its ancient mysteries.
We sit beside the wanderer as he takes a well-earned rest
and contemplates the valley laid below the mountain’s breast.

We ride beside the driver of a semi in the rain;
we stand beside the farmer while he reaps his golden grain;
we delve beside the digger picking out his grain of gold;
we whisper to the dreamer, dreaming dreams we dreamed of old;

We gather up the bitter tears brought on by fire and drought
and mingle them with tears of joy that banish fear and doubt.
We sift the days and months and years of sheer back-breaking toil,
then glean the pride that blooms in hearts that love this stubborn soil.

From every man and woman and from every grain of sand
we distil the very essence of this people and this land,
then blend them all together to create the gift we bring
that serves as ink that shapes the lines that make a poem sing.

Wherever there’s a camp-fire in the vast Australian night
we join the conversation, hovering just beyond the light.
Wherever there’s a poet doing battle with his pen
we stir his heart, but still his mind, and urge him “Try again”.

Just a drop of inspiration, gentle hint or subtle clue
to a struggling would-be poet...that’s all He expects from you.
The works you’ve left behind, my friend, have set you now apart.
New poets are emergeing...come...it’s time to make a start.”


Ellis, Milton, Frank...we're listening...