Billycan Creek

Discussion in 'Creative Traditional' started by mountainpepper, Feb 28, 2014.

  1. When I get tired of the concrete and tar
    there’s a place I can go, and not travel far,
    that hasn’t been touched by progress at all;
    nature stands still beneath gums growing tall.

    And in amongst shadows with sprinkled light,
    there’s rippling water and birds taking flight,
    a sprinkling of colour amongst shades of green,
    there’s burrows and scratching where something has been.

    So I give you a picture of Billycan Creek
    where flora and fauna are all quite unique,
    and nothing is spoilt where I sit on a log
    with my video camera and terrier dog.

    A single stem orchid stands better than stark
    with a deep purple flower that closes at dark,
    and a coprosma tree with red berries quite sweet
    is a pleasure to find with its bounty a treat.

    In mistletoe weeping from a host in disguise
    I video drifting jezebel butterflies,
    and sitellas who cling to an old stringybark,
    then high on a limb…the nest of a mudlark.

    So I give you a picture of Billycan Creek
    where flora and fauna are all quite unique,
    and my camera is ready, with eyes like a hawk
    where now with my dog on a casual walk.

    Here the undulate water it constantly flows,
    diverting ‘round logs and where overhang grows,
    a haven’s provided for what could be prey
    and in the shallows there’s a freshwater cray.

    Some red brow firetails flit down for a drink,

    there’s a burrow that’s new with no reason to think,
    for a wombat has scratched out a hole and a mound;
    but a wombat’s nocturnal who lives underground.

    So I give you a picture of Billycan Creek

    where flora and fauna are all quite unique,
    and I’ve only a second to capture a scene,
    so my camera is ready to help me convene.

    The scent of boronia hangs heavy and strong,
    lances of grass trees are a seed clustered prong,
    white ants have covered an old stump with mud,
    and Christmas bush bracts are now starting to bud.

    On a hazel bush branch a grey fantail sits prone
    in a nest made of cobwebs, tapered to a cone,
    and a chattering chough tells me that I don’t belong,
    now my camera has died so I can’t say it’s wrong…

    So my battery is flat and I’m back at the log
    with a film full of nature, and my terrier dog,
    and you’ve read my picture of Billycan Creek
    where flora and fauna are all quite unique.
     
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  2. Moonchild

    Moonchild
    Moon Goddess of Whispers
    451
    1
    18
    Jul 24, 2007
    Pennsylvania
    0
    Really beautiful, wow!
    You wrote and expressed this extremely well.
    I love nature poetry and this is a feast for the senses.
    Loved and enjoyed every word, thank you :)
     
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