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The Avondale Poets
Phyllis  (McLachlan-Buckley) Bootes


Phyllis  (McLachlan-Buckley)  Bootes
  is another great granddaughter of 
"McLachlan of Avondale"  in Australia
 

Phyllis  (McLachlan-Buckley)  Bootes

Nostalgia

The old house in the bushland,
Was where I loved to be,
Where kangaroos & foxes roamed
And birds sang in the trees.

We'd sit upon the branches,
Tell stories, sing or play.
When our chores were over
We'd be free to go our way.

Through the old brown branches
I can glimpse the cottage there;
And the storms from down the valley
Worked their way to where we were.

I used to take my art book
And paints & pencils too,
To draw scenes from the bushland ...
It's what I loved to do.

- Phyllis Bootes

 "Snoop"

"Snoop" is a faithful old ginger cat.
The farm he'd never leave.
He fends for himself with rabbits & birds,
And keeps himself healthy on these.

He's fourteen years old but fighting fit
Though he has no teeth at all.
His gums are strong from pulling at meat.
At this he has ...  "quite a ball".

"Snoop" waits outside while his mistress "goes".
Loyally he stays close by the door.
Whenever we pat him his fur falls out
And with bronchitis he's inclined to snore.

At night he lies close to the chimney
Where it is cosy & warm.
He curls himself up very snugly
And there he sleeps until morn.

- Phyllis Bootes

 I Remember

I swing on the gate in the paddock
The gate that the cattle walk through.
I did this when I was a little girl,
Would get chided for that too
By my uncle. He could be strict
But I really didn't mind.
I don't think he liked us playing at all
As he always had jobs to find.

There wasn't  "spare time" for us to rest.
We were kept busy all day through
So we wouldn't get into mischief, I guess.
That as their idea too.

The farm where we lived on Lowes Mount
Was surrounded by countless gum trees.
We'd walk through the rough wild bracken
And eat honey made by the bees.
Uncle Josh sometimes sang to us
Or played his mouth organ too.
He was a musical person & entertained
As his father had done & would do.

- Phyllis Bootes

 The Pines

The wind in the pines has a mournful sound
But I love to listen as I walk 'round.
Spreading mist on the pines is lovely to see,
A breathtaking sight that still enthralls me.

In Hampton as we were travelling there
I first saw this mist in the tall pines there.
We were driving through to visit my friend
About "Family History" ... that has no end.

Pines trees I first saw when I was small
Grew 'round Smith's farmhouse at Sodwalls.
We played with pine cones in plenty there
And climbed in branches without a care.

Pines have always been somewhere 'round
Through my earlier life as a child.
I've never lost my liking for them
They enjoy a climate that's mild.

We come upon them unexpectedly
In the most unlikely places.
These lovely pines grow in numbers.
Displaying stately  "airs && graces".

- Phyllis Bootes

Bush Friendship

I love the country
It is wide & free;
But I don't like the city
It's not the place for me.
In the bush where men are loyal,
And women help their kind.
There's a special bond of friendship
That's not  "lost in the wind".
It holds on ever steadfast.
Nothing comes between.
The friendship of the bushfolk
Is something to be seen.

- Phyllis Bootes

Old  Fashioned Things

I've always loved "old-fashioned things".
To me they are so dear.
I wish that I was ...  "back in time"
To see the things of yesteryear.

I love old photos & recipes too,
And many things that ... "we used to do".
There was plenty of space to run around
And excitement of ... a day in town. 

People were friendly & more helpful too.
They didn't  "rush" ...  as today they do.
They cared much more for one another
While every man looked after his  "brother".

- Phyllis Bootes

Poems written by -

Phyllis (McLachlan-Buckley) Bootes
of city of Wagga Wagga,
south western rural region of
New South Wales Australia


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