Hope this Helps,



Some There Are...

Lester Masters, Fedruary 1943



For some there are who do not know,

Nor feel the urge or wish to go;

Nor know when stalking time is near

Or wish to hunt elusive deer;

For those there are who do not know.



Not know or feel the time of year,

Nor wish to gather pack and gear

Nor long to saddle up a hack

And head for hills away out back,

To see once more the fall of snow;

For there are some who do not know.

Not know the thrill to hunt the boar,

Nor hear the red stag's lusty roar,

Nor quietly stalk through the forest deep,

For we are queer who wish to go-

Or so they say who do not know.



Not know the tracks that seem to cling

Nor wish to hear the tuis sing,

Nor laze beside a fern draped wall

Somewhere where mountain waters fall,

To watch the spray and coloured bow,

Not wish for these , nor want to know.



Not know the thrill afar to sight

O'er bush and range old Egmont's height,

Nor listen to the bellbirds chime,

Nor down the bush clad spurs to climb.

So strange it is we wish to go-

Or so they say who do not know.



Not know the breath of mountain air,

Nor feel the absence of dull care,

Not know what nomads ever knew

Nor do the things that they would do,

Nor watch the cloudmist fade and go;

For those there are who do not know.



Not know the big-eyed morepork's wail,

Noe wish to take a campward trail,

Nor watch at eve the changing light,

Nor sit and yarn in camp at night;

For some there are who ought to go

That they might feel the spell and KNOW!



And know , and in the spell be caught,

And know ten days would be to short,

Too short for those who know the spell

Of wild fern ridge and bushland dell;

Ten days to short to laze and dream

By camp or spur or mountain stream!





Milosmate

MY COUNTRY IS BEING TAKEN



I love a sunburnt country, where rabbits eat the grass

A land of sweeping plains, where wild pigs roam unsupassed

I love her far horizons, though sparrows fill the skies

I love her jeweled sea where starfish eat the reef

Her beauty & her terror are introduced animals that are like a cancer.



If I can take my rifle and kill a fox or two,

Then Bilbies will roam forever so my son can see them too

A wild pig tearing up the grass will also need to go

So the wild acacia can return and bloom it's flower show

The national park should be clean so I'd be there to shoot a goat,

And rock wallaby can roam free without fighting to survive.



My country's being taken by rabbit, pig and fox,

And many other animals that would be no ecological loss

If I can take my rifle and restore the status quo,

Then let my aim be true whether shotgun, rifle or bow



- - - - - - - - - - - - -



(My country being taken but I will do my bit,

And all you greenies can get stuffed cos I don't give a s#it)

. . . . . . . . .



(Best I can do in 10 mins but the lad should get the idea, mate)

Sure

Poetry has been around a lot longer than the antis! There is a classic and often quoted verse from the great Robbie Burns My Heart's In The Highlands Some background on Burns and Scotland during that era can be found at Burns info

Hope these links help.

Fergus

Hi All,

my son has an assignment for school, where he has to show opposing points of view through poetry. He, of course, has chosen the most difficult of all topics - hunting

He's found lots of 'anti' hunting poetry, but is having difficulty finding anything in favour - it doesn't necessarily have to be in favour of 'hunting' per se, but could include issues such as pest eradication, the damage/difficulties caused by animals competing for food, stock predation... etc., etc.

Oh, and yes, it's Saturday night here, and the assignment is due Monday!!

Any ideas? any help would be much appreciated.

Thanks in advance.