Homework 9/4/22 'Visor Dawning'
Posted: Sat Apr 09, 2022 10:18 am
Visor Dawning.
©Ron Boughton. April 2022
Contentment in perception of forever changing scene
In Broken Hill’s kaleidoscope of colours to be seen,
In landscapes of the spectrum that sustain the artist’s brush,
Where matters not if arid, or in times when could be lush!
The blue bush and the saltbush and the striking desert pea
Are only some components of the beauty there to see,
And Mundi Mundi’s views! To be remembered in memoirs!
And where at night the smallest glance …could see Ten Thousand stars!
At first my helmets visor was my window to this world!
When cerulean skies, on steroids, were at times unfurled,
As many years we’d ridden, to the ‘Hill’ and far beyond
A group of mates with common thread, who of this place were fond,
Where each year could reveal, pleasant horizons of surprise,
There often heightened by, vivid pink and orange sunrise!
A changing world of variables, that to understand
Gave deep appreciation for the fortune of this land!
We’d seen Menindee’s big lake, a brimmer, to befuddle!
Because! A year before was just …a piddle of a puddle!
And good years saw wildflowers in proliferation grow
But drought years showed just stubble, and much road-kill for the crow!
Another year a dust storm from Wilcannia to Cobar
That riding through, showcased a setting surreal and bizarre!
A swirling red dust tunnel, for Two Hundred Ks. we rode,
Where rooster-tails of fine red mist, were thrown up from the road!
So many splendid vistas viewed, now time to reminisce,
And lucky, to have touched the soul of magic outback bliss!
Along with many escapades, in our land so diverse
Like riding the Great Ocean Road in weather quite adverse,
Where, Twelve apostles could, as shattered skeletons appear!
And Snowy Mountains rides, what a great memory souvenir!
Where misty veils of morning would rise slowly from the snow,
Belonging in the treasure chest …of biking years ago!
©Ron Boughton. April 2022
Contentment in perception of forever changing scene
In Broken Hill’s kaleidoscope of colours to be seen,
In landscapes of the spectrum that sustain the artist’s brush,
Where matters not if arid, or in times when could be lush!
The blue bush and the saltbush and the striking desert pea
Are only some components of the beauty there to see,
And Mundi Mundi’s views! To be remembered in memoirs!
And where at night the smallest glance …could see Ten Thousand stars!
At first my helmets visor was my window to this world!
When cerulean skies, on steroids, were at times unfurled,
As many years we’d ridden, to the ‘Hill’ and far beyond
A group of mates with common thread, who of this place were fond,
Where each year could reveal, pleasant horizons of surprise,
There often heightened by, vivid pink and orange sunrise!
A changing world of variables, that to understand
Gave deep appreciation for the fortune of this land!
We’d seen Menindee’s big lake, a brimmer, to befuddle!
Because! A year before was just …a piddle of a puddle!
And good years saw wildflowers in proliferation grow
But drought years showed just stubble, and much road-kill for the crow!
Another year a dust storm from Wilcannia to Cobar
That riding through, showcased a setting surreal and bizarre!
A swirling red dust tunnel, for Two Hundred Ks. we rode,
Where rooster-tails of fine red mist, were thrown up from the road!
So many splendid vistas viewed, now time to reminisce,
And lucky, to have touched the soul of magic outback bliss!
Along with many escapades, in our land so diverse
Like riding the Great Ocean Road in weather quite adverse,
Where, Twelve apostles could, as shattered skeletons appear!
And Snowy Mountains rides, what a great memory souvenir!
Where misty veils of morning would rise slowly from the snow,
Belonging in the treasure chest …of biking years ago!
)