By Jack Goodeve, 13 July 2026
Over the course of the frist trimester of Uni I have picked up an old hobby of mine - writing poetry. Although the prose may not be the best, I enjoy it and have been told its alright.
So here are my poems that I have written for the trips that I have been on, from Gollans Stream, to Bushcraft, and the many morning swims.
Punters
Pray heed to the morning sun!
Rising from the East to settle in the West
Pulled by chariots – Helios Rigveda Skinfaxi
Charioteers one and all
Steeds lost in the stars
The Sun caught by hooks and flaxen rope
Punters one and all!
Follow the trail
Strike while the sun is yet young
While full of beauty and still young
It is only nine ‘o’clock
Eastern Beach
rubber against asphalt
we throw our bodies into the squall
sea salt tickles our tongues
as we gallop towards the rising sun
puffed though we are
we dive deep into the surf
pitching our bodies off the sea-wall
a rush of wind
a southerly off the alps
yet cresting over the clouds
Te Rā appears
faint are the flaxen rope controlling his arc
but for one so weary
the pulsing rays and the slow rising
bring a warmth to the bones sapped by squall and by surf
Bronze Wings
Like a seabird
Flowing flying — shining
Wings of bronze
Salt stings the nose
Clouds offer a comforting embrace
Always a journey
freedom can be so enticing
is freedom really found far from home
or is it found where the salt mets sand
bush meets grass
between stepping out the door or staying in
catch an uplifting wind
carrying to shore
salt tarnishs the soul
returned to the same place
never the same
Mt Matthews
Why were you lost in the bush
Was it your compass broke
Or abandoned by your hope
Mayhap the light of the morn will guide your way
Through glistening ferns - they won’t lead you astray
Across rivers, like arteries that feed the sea
Oh, how forlorn the great forests feel
But if only you knew some tricks
Perhaps you'd be joyous and free
At home in the forest amongst the trees