There’s a lot there that’s either incredibly local or national idiom, Bill, a gathering of terms as well as landmarks.
Is it a bit too sentence-loaded; or maybe should just be a prose poem?
Doug
> On Nov 8, 2017, at 2:11 AM, Patrick McManus <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
> thanks Bill sounds a lovely place -nice last line
>
> cheers P
>
>
> On 07/11/2017 20:37, Bill Wootton wrote:
>> A poem reworked for a future local poetry slam. Title is the theme. Feel
>> free to offer suggestions.
>>
>> Daylesford & Hepburn Springs - made in heaven
>>
>>
>>
>> A bristling block of almost city,
>>
>> either end of Daylesford eases off to country.
>>
>> In between comes clobber, cafes, art, books,
>>
>> a white-tiled butcher's, glazed pottery, mopchoppers,
>>
>> furniture chic, two-storey bank buildings
>>
>> and the rump Rex theatre, up an arcade.
>>
>>
>>
>> Two fountains splash and glisten,
>>
>> one down the post office end, the other
>>
>> near the mower shop, viewable
>>
>> from a corner table at the Taj.
>>
>> And always, Wombat Hill looms over
>>
>> The Convent's grey balconies.
>>
>>
>>
>> Brick-red kissmequicks, agapanthus spears
>>
>> and squadrons of bluebells burst from the soil,
>>
>> Swiss-Italian planted pines, elms, red oaks and
>>
>> copper beeches share gullies and steep ridges
>>
>> with flaky mannagums, candlebarks and cedars
>>
>> all the way to gentle Hepburn Springs.
>>
>>
>>
>> Chimneys ease woodsmoke at dusk,
>>
>> horse poo sells at the side of the road.
>>
>> Trains trickle to Bullarto just once a week,
>>
>> ivy advances on fading guest houses
>>
>> but pubs survive and even kick on.
>>
>> Score rissoles at Merv's Savoia, singalong
>>
>> at the Old Hep or gush to Simon at The Goat.
>>
>>
>>
>> Cheer parades at Hep's Swiss-Italian Festa,
>>
>> and Daylesford's Chillout and New Year's Eve,
>>
>> where locals take to the streets with gusto;
>>
>> stilted Sprung Circus girls, mounted knights
>>
>> in armour, brass bands, lavish LGBTQI's,
>>
>> share bitumen with tractors and fire engines.
>>
>>
>>
>> Black ice slicks up roads in winter,
>>
>> the cold seems to go on forever,
>>
>> no takers still for the vacant Palais,
>>
>> the General store sells out of sourdough bread.
>>
>> But rainbow flags flicker in the breeze.
>>
>> Can towns be made in heaven?
>>
>>
>>
>> bw
Douglas Barbour
[log in to unmask]
https://eclecticruckus.wordpress.com/
Recent publications: (With Sheila E Murphy) Continuations & Continuations 2 (UofAPress).
Recording Dates (Rubicon Press).
Listen. If (UofAPress):
There was the usual amount of corruption, intimidation, and rioting.
Sir Charles Petrie
|