Treasure Island

Henry Mackenzie Green

(2 May 1881 - 9 September 1962 / Sydney)

Bush Goblins


The Locust drones along the drowsy noon,
The brown bee lingers in the yellow foam,
Blossom on blossom searching deep, but soon
Slides heavy-wingèd home.

The vacant air, half visible, complains
All overburdened of its noontide hour;
Sound after sound in heavy silence wanes
At the strong sun’s burning power.

Let the strong sun burn down the barren plain
And scour the empty heaven, and twist the air
To filmiest flickerings, o’er us in vain
His hollow vault doth glare.

For us gnarled boughs and massive boles o’ershade,
And tall bulrushes guard us with green spears
From the grim noon; our dewy jewelled glade
Never a footstep nears.

Come feast with us; behold our fragrant store
Of candied locusts, that no longer drone
Through summer eves, but transmigrated, pour
Thin goblin monotone

Through eucalyptine stillness as we rouse
Our gnomy anthem to the answering trees,
While gold-eyed toad-guards of our hidden house
Croak full-fed choruses.

Come visit us; O follow till you find
In some green shade our secret banquetings,
Where brolgas dance, and, some great stem behind,
A hidden lyrebird sings.

Ask of the eaglehawk in the blue air,
Ask of the chattering parrot, he should tell;
Fat possum in the tree bole, furry bear,
Us beast and bird know well.

The silver lizard on the sun-baked stone,
The green-flecked tree-snake in his circle coiled,
Dreaming of evil, man, and man alone
Missed us, howe’er he toiled.

Come feast thou with us; ancient kings of all,
We are the mystery at the heart of noon,
Weird unseen chucklers when long shadows fall
From the misleading moon.

We are the spirits of distorted trees;
We beckon down dim gullies, far astray,
Till lost, deep lost, the wild-eyed traveller sees
Dark at the heart of day.

And oh, we laughed about his last choked groans
Beside the water that he sought so long,
And oh, we danced about his clean-picked bones
To a gnomy undersong.

For all the day we chuckle and provoke
With mocking shapes and noises each bright hour,
But when dark even from his grave hath broke
Then are we lords of power.

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?


Henry Mackenzie Green's Other Poems


Read poems about / on: snake, green, power, tree, lost, evil, dark, sun, dance, silver, silence, summer, house, moon, water, heaven, home, alone, heart, dream

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Bush Goblins by Henry Mackenzie Green )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. If Your Reflection Could Kill, Russell Nero
  2. The blues, blaz zigon
  3. Feminine Beauty, chanchal gupta
  4. Alone again, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  5. [Challenge] Entrees for September (Disqu.., Brian Johnston
  6. Indulgences, Jayatissa Liyanage
  7. From The Balcony, Heather Burns
  8. Ang undubai, Shri R Brahma
  9. 10 January 2014, Shri R Brahma
  10. October is next to September تشرين الاول.., MOHAMMAD SKATI

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

My love is like to ice, and I to fire:
How comes it then that this her cold so great
Is not dissolved through my so hot desire,
But harder grows the more I her entreat?
...... Read complete »

   

Trending Poems

  1. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  2. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  3. Dreams, Langston Hughes
  4. Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
  5. My Love Is Like To Ice, Edmund Spenser
  6. Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
  7. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
  8. No Man Is An Island, John Donne
  9. Daffodils, William Wordsworth
  10. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda

Trending Poets

[Hata Bildir]