Poets CORNER

In the gully where the Whipbirds call, Where the rose gums and the quandongs grow tall, Where giant cones from the Bunya Pines fall. That’s where my memories lie.

Where winter brings cloudless blue skies

And the mists in the valleys curl as they rise. Where the cat bird sounds like a baby’s cries (And the heart of the rainforest sighs).

That’s where my spirit finds peace.

Where towering thunderheads build in the west

And dump their load on the mountain’s crest.

Where the ring tail possum huddles safe in her nest.

That’s where my heart resides.

Where the platypus plays in the swirling creek

Where the wedgetail hunts with talon and beak And the night is unsettled by the curlew’s shriek (by its ghostly and lonely shriek)

That’s where my bones will rest.

Where the Dalla and the Nalbo thrived Before hungry strangers from the sea arrived And their sprawling cities of concrete contrived. That’s where my soul will return.

© Sandra Poole

Poetry is an arrangement of language, artistic word pictures that attempt to inspire imagination, evoke emotion and provoke humour. Poets are illustrators of words that create beauty and intensity, and the HT is proud to give them a platform. Please note, published poems may be read/recorded for our social pages.

Recently. My grandfather stepped out He was in pain. You see So there’s nothing to judge

He didn’t say goodbye

Not once not ever

Many moments before, Looking out at the view he could no longer see He showed me a film Through words from his mouth tears in his eyes, and smiles that punctuated the flow of memories

The reel included such beauty

And loveliness I never before imagined My body ached with gratitude yearning

For a love such as he had had.

My grandfather stepped out His pain is no more

As his love has been reunited.

© Gabriele Haiden

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