Raw Music of The Secret River

Thornhill's Point was so far from
Will's own Thames
As far as the convict ship Alexander
Could weather the distance
Without breaking

Untamed Thornhill's Point on
The untamed Hawkesbury was 
His adopted dream
(Once he had his ticket of freedom)
And Sal's interim 5 year dream
Till the real dream of Home
Could return

However
He changed
They changed
Transformed
London became
Another 
Shapeless Story

And to the children
That Home was
Just a word


Confronting those who roamed this land before him
He felt naked
He felt small
Words were just a wall
But she felt...
She simply felt
Connected to 
The beauty of a black woman's
Crude
Bark
Dish

A scorching world in January
Ants 
Mosquitoes
Flies and 
Speckled lizards
But in the cool of the mangroves and
The river oaks
And armed with a hearty pannikin of tea
(Trade
A bit of kangaroo for
A bag of flour)
It could be easy 
To pretend
Here was heaven

But the Secret River funnelled into
A dark season
A fear of spears and 
Ruined corn and
Frozen eyes and
Ragged breathing

Still
Seasons pass
Thornhill's Point faded and
And Cobham Hall 
Brandished a fine stone house with
A fine red velvet armchair

Home
Had sailed
Home

But heaven seemed
Remote


Give a little Take a little
Perhaps
Still
A precious
Mantra


Kate Grenville is an Australian writer from Sydney - The Secret River (2005)

GOODREADS REVIEW

The Secret River by Kate Grenville
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

For some, the Hawkesbury River north of Sydney, in the 19th century, was a wild place where only madmen venture. Some find its secret beauty, but only realise that priceless magic when the glittering wealths of life entice them away.

View all my reviews

Goodreads Discussion: I especially love the image of William Thornhill finally locked into his Cobham Hall and viewing his Hawkesbury escapades through a spyglass with a sad yearning! He knew that he came close to real beauty but let it slip through his "social status" fingers. Meanwhile, he saw that the Aboriginal, close to the Earth, really lived with true beauty. A very symbolic, challenging moment!

Linking to:
Real Toads ~ Open Link Monday

Poetic Impressions of The Wind Singer

Aramanth
Land of the Manth people
A giant scarecrow structure 
A special gift
From unknown special people
The wonder of the wind singer

But there emerged scarlet gowned examiners
Who sought to grind the human spirit into
Coloured labels
Maroon for those of valuable obedience
Orange for those with midstream potential and
Grey for those who verged on 
Disposable

Tests 
Ongoing tests
Ensured
The right people were
In the right places

And the key to the windsinger's song was
Invisible
Missing

But there are always those 
Who wish and will
A different world

Bowman and Kestrel
The twins
And the 
Muddle-headed 
Mumpo

They were children
Just children
Cast
Down and
Up into
A labyrinth of journeys

Outer landscapes
Together
Inner landscapes
Alone

Braving the muds of the Underlake
The crumbling parapet above the gorge
Riding wolves and
Soaring in eagles' claws

Seeking the identity of
Their lost souls

The Emperor held 
The map
Aging Queen Num wore
The silver clasp 
The key to
The windsinger's song

And in the shifting shades
Always smile
The old children
Lurking 
Longing
To touch
Their crippling touch
Hoping for some fire to burn them back
To what they should be
~~~~~~

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The Wind Singer (2000)
William Nicholson is a British screenwriter, playwright and novelist.

GOODREADS REVIEW

The Wind Singer by William Nicholson
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Aramanth
Sounds like some legendary jewel
But the gem
The walled city
Has lost the sparkle of the wind singer
The strangers' tall tower of
Wooden beams and metal pipes
Has lost the voice of
The soul
Extract from my poetic review - an alternative review on my Gemma's Greyscale Territory blog

An extraordinary fantasy that hints of breaths from old legends and becomes a chameleon of reality and dream! And if you feel the spirit deep down, you will feel the smudges of our society lurking.

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Good Reads discussion: For some strange reason, "The Wind Singer" seems to reflect elements of "The Handmaid's Tale" by Margaret Atwood. Both represent a world of crushing, stifling perfection and the journey of those who seek a way out. But this time, the travellers are children.

 Linking to:
Poets United The Think Tank Thursday ~ Labyrinth
dVerse Poets Pub ~ Open Link Night