Home

Feeling lost and lonely

Though I am known and found

Unsure, confused, uncertain

Yet hope knows where I’m bound

 

A pilgrim on a journey

This land is not my home

Yet here I live at present

Unsettled, on I roam

 

Contentment sought in plenty

Contentment sought in naught

Contentment is elusive

Contentment can’t be bought

 

Home is what I long for

But not a house or land to find

Home will be a Person

But not yet any I have called mine

 

If homeward You’re not calling

Then must I discontented be?

I long for hope’s fulfillment

Of my long-sought destiny

 

10/8/2015

How Many Loves…

How many loves, dear?
Is there a counting of the ways?
Is it love when two souls become one without sway?
Is a love defined, dear
In the longing of a child?
The compassion of a parent t’ward wand’rers in the wild?
Is there a calling of love, dear
In the sound between friends?
The weaving and binding of a bond without end
Is there imparting of love, dear
When communities reach out?
In the sharing of joys, great tragedy or doubt
How many loves, dear?
Is there a counting of the ways?
Or just a lifetime discov’ring, all love’s great reach and sway?

17/3/2020
Gina Marie

Rutherglen

If we knew you then, would our vista be

One of tents and mines and mullock heaps

Of cross-cut saw, savanna cleared

Traversing camel, cattle and sheep all here?

 

Or further back, ‘fore ships arrived

With strangers from afar

Mountains, trees and river flows

A people sunned, of this land a part?

 

In season’s change, see broken hearts

As we witness the affray

Of black and white, and northern lands

Sons and daughters lost – to our dismay

 

Survey across the ages past

From foot to cart to rail

Motorcar on bitumen

Paddle wheel and long road-train

 

Cereals grown, produced en-masse

Pork, beef, milk, and mutton

Flooding rains and rivers

Drought lands, dry and sullen

 

Vines and wine and food galore

Families here, longstanding

Visitors who come and go

Some returning through each season

 

Tractor, header, combine, ute

Wine and pies and cars

Building’s from another time

New ventures yet to start

 

Rutherglen, our long-time home

Evolving over time

Preserved in memories passed along

Through picture, story, song and rhyme

 

Gina Schmidt 8/7/2015 – Written and recited for Arts Rutherglen 

 

Image 1: View along Autumnal grapevines

Image 2: Sun setting below a hill, silhouette of a tree in the foreground

Image 3: Wintery, showery view along a fence line, from the gate post into the paddock (field) beyond

Image 4: Canola crop in flower, blurred trees behind

Image 5: View along old timber fence posts combined with new and rusted wire, sun setting in the distance

Image 6: A young steer peering suspiciously through the mob

Image 7: Remains of a tree once living amidst a green crop, canola crop in flower behind

Image 8: Early morning sun rising, seen through the naked branches of a once living tree

Image 9: Old timber farm machinery in the grass, beneath the trees on a side road

Image 10: Old windmill and overhead tank on stand

Morning Song

 

Your morning song is in the air

Carried on the breeze

Announcing that the day’s begun

With sun or winter freeze

 

Dancing in the spray

Sipping by the pools

Digging for a treat to eat

While all is fresh and cool

 

Calling to your kin

To join us in your fare

And sing a song of freedom

Before taking to the air

 

 

21/2/2020

Magpie visits

Gina Marie

Grateful Chorus

What a wonder!
The gracious Saviour!

In love he formed me
By grace restored me

His endless mercies
Shower down, concert me

Oh, great rejoicing!
My soul is voicing

I ne’er could fathom
Love’s endless cavern

With gifts abounding
T’ward me, astounding

In grateful chorus
I rise, victorious

The valley of trouble
By hope, smoothed of rubble

So I walk on in peace
Toward the bridegroom’s feast

I sing, in grateful chorus

22/1/2020

King of Glory, Prince of Peace

He has been my King of Glory

My rest, as Prince of Peace

On solid ground,

When waves surround

At journey’s start or when complete

My guiding light when dark descends

Leaves footprints in the sand

Amidst tumult, calm

Or eye of storm

Beside me, takes my hand

In life, and death, and season’ change

Obscured, or within view

He upright stands

Bends low with hands

To embrace, or pull me through

19/1/2020