Category: Bush Poetry

Bush Poetry, NSW8 Comments

By the Gwydir

Itching for Hitching

Aug 2018, Gwydir River, Bingara, NSW A walk in the winter sun along the riverbank where horses graze and giant gums stand high upon ten feet long roots washed clean by past floods and home to spiders and the like. Is it any wonder then that this poem comes to mind and circles my brain like the painted horses on a merry go round? The Spider by the Gwydir By Anonymous By the sluggish River Gwydir Lived a wicked red-backed spider, Who was just about as vicious as could be: And the place that he was camped in Was a … Continue reading By the Gwydir

Bush Poetry3 Comments

Aussie Jingle Bells – Colin Buchanan

Itching for Hitching

Dashing through the bush, in a rusty Holden Ute, Kicking up the dust, esky in the boot, Kelpie by my side, singing Christmas songs, It’s Summer time and I am in my singlet, shorts and thongs Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way, Christmas in Australia on a scorching summers day, Hey! Jingle bells, jingle bells, Christmas time is beaut!, Oh what fun it is to ride in a rusty Holden Ute. Engine’s getting hot; we dodge the kangaroos, The swaggie climbs aboard, he is welcome too. All the family’s there, sitting by the pool, Christmas Day the … Continue reading Aussie Jingle Bells – Colin Buchanan

Bush Poetry, NSW11 Comments

Spending a penny and learning a lot

Itching for Hitching

Gunnedah in country NSW has a Dorothea Mackellar memorial because she was inspired to write part of her much loved poem “My Country” in 1905 when she visited one of her family’s properties at Gunnedah. The good folk of Gunnedah have taken things a little further by engraving poems on the backs of the public toilet doors. One can choose which poet they’d prefer to read as the names are on the outside of the door. Now after we compared our photos I have a sneaking suspicion that the poets match the gender of the toilet, but that is only … Continue reading Spending a penny and learning a lot

Bush Poetry8 Comments

Forty Degrees of Summer

Itching for Hitching

  Heat oppressive, barometric pressure palpable. The smell, of eucalyptus and dust hangs in the air. Thunder rumbles, far in the distance. Unswimmable the river, swollen and swirling in eddies. Silent dappled gums, soft yellow and grey trunks. Sweat streams, from scalp it trickles to feet. With reddened faces we gasp, dogs pant. Nervous, we sniff the air for signs of smoke. Stillness, brings big drops of plopping rain. Welcoming sweet and cleansing, on our skin. We dance with arms outstretched, as if to catch more. All too soon it is gone, stopped. Leaving a more bearable world.   Continue reading Forty Degrees of Summer

Bush Poetry9 Comments

Australia Day 2016

Itching for Hitching

My Country The love of field and coppice, Of green and shaded lanes. Of ordered woods and gardens Is running in your veins, Strong love of grey-blue distance Brown streams and soft dim skies I know but cannot share it, My love is otherwise. I love a sunburnt country, A land of sweeping plains, Of ragged mountain ranges, Of droughts and flooding rains. I love her far horizons, I love her jewel-sea, Her beauty and her terror – The wide brown land for me! A stark white ring-barked forest All tragic to the moon, The sapphire-misted mountains, The hot gold … Continue reading Australia Day 2016

Bush Poetry, Uncategorized2 Comments

There’s Movement at the Van Park

Itching for Hitching

There’s a woman in the dunny Blowing hair all around And talking incessantly Of problems, they abound. Campers are walking Their poodles and shih tzus Dawdling and chatting And sharing, the day’s news. There’ve been some young blokes Misbehaving in the park Drinking and fighting Even shooting, in the dark. We nomads are excited Our minds are all abuzz It’s not every morning We have breakfast, with the fuzz. – Lindsey Wood Continue reading There’s Movement at the Van Park

Bush Poetry, VicLeave a comment

Tarnagulla

Itching for Hitching

Stillness, quiet the smell of dust in the air. Cold clear nights, cold noses under a million stars. Dry grass, cracked earth the ground peppered with quartz. Striped gums, yellow gums pepper trees laden with pink corns. Kangaroos alert, feeding mobs of bounding roos. Galahs grazing, chattering flocks wheeling overhead. Gumnuts, slivers of bark a carpet of dry leaves. Stillness, quiet in the tall spindly, silent grey bush.  – © Lindsey Wood, ifh2015 Continue reading Tarnagulla