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Sally Murphy, Australian author

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Poetry Friday: Echidna Dreams

February 26, 2021 by Sally 11 Comments

It’s Poetry Friday and this week I read a wonderful book called Animals Make Us Human, which shares stories from some of Australia’s finest writers, and scientists and conservationists. Each story  shares that writer’s connection with animals, mostly of one specific species. The stories are lovely, the photos are sumptuous, but the message is also important – we need to  know these stories and the threats that face our animal friends.

There was so much to love and to digest from the book, but one line stood out to me – from author Tom Kenneally, who shared the fact that echidnas, among other amazing things, are known to dream – they experience REM sleep. ‘What is it the echidna’s dreaming’ Kenneally asks. And, reading that line, I knew I needed to write about this.

When it came time to write,  that line came back to me, and I knew I wanted to use it, or something close to it, and evoke a dream-like state. I settled on a poetic form new to me, the viator (which Irene Latham introduced me to last  Poetry Friday). The first line becomes a refrain, used in the second line of the second stanza, the third line of the third, and the final line of the fourth.  it’s a tricky form, but also a lot of fun to work with.

Here’s what I came up with:

 

When Echidna dreams

her dreams, curled in a spiky ball

nestled  down deep

in her earthy burrow

 

what does she dream

when Echidna dreams?

Do streams of ants

march across her vision?

 

Or does she fly

or swim or float

when Echidna dreams,

imagining fantastic possibilities?

 

I can only guess

the wonderings, the worrying

in the dreams she dreams

when Echidna dreams.

(Poem copyright Sally Murphy, 2021)

 

Not familiar with the echidna? This video offers some wonderful footage – and insight.

 

Speaking of poetry, this week was a wonderful week for poetry in Australia – and especially for the verse novel. The Children’s Book Council announced the Notable Books for 2021 (this is a form of longlist for the Children’s Book of the Year Awards). And in the younger readers’ category there was not one, not two, but THREE verse novels. This is brilliant news, in a country where children’s poetry receives scant publishing attention. And, as it happens, I may have been also a bit chuffed that one of those poems was my own Worse Things.  Happy days!

 

Not really poetry related (though there is poetry under the sea and this video is filled with potential poems) – here’s a glimpse at the very early morning snorkelling trip I managed before work this week. I am a wee bit addicted.

The Poetry Friday host today is Karen Edmiston. Pop over to her blog to see what other poetry goodness is on offer today.. It might also leave you wondering what you are as old as (and the answer is not ‘as old as the hills’).

 

Poetry Friday: Under the Sea

February 19, 2021 by Sally 17 Comments

This week I was lucky enough to have a little holiday from work – and from the world, it seemed.  I headed to Rottnest Island (which in the local Noongyar language is called Wadjemup), and spent two days snorkelling, riding a bike and relaxing.  I especially wanted to snorkel at a place called Parker Point, on the other side of the island, and hired a bike specially. Last year I cheated and caught the tourist bus.

I got up super early and was the first one in the water. It was so worth it!  I’ve tried to write about it, although the poem is still a draft. And, if you have time, I have cobbled together a video from my gopro footage.  If I had more time I would have edited it better, but hopefully you’ll get a sense of the magic.

 

Wadjemup, Tuesday Morning

Six a.m

and holidaymakers

sleep still

in cottages

languidly enjoying

their break from reality.

But I

am far from my cottage

urging my bike

up hills much steeper than they appeared

from the windows of

the air conditioned bus.

At Parker Point

I stop

feeling sheepish

chaining the bike

when there’s no one else in sight

descend the stairs

and prepare

snorkels

flippers

rashie.

At the edge of the water

I pause

wondering at my sanity

to be here alone

so early.

Too late now

I commit

lunging forward inelegantly

over seagrass

darkly stirring

just inches from my face.

Within metres

I spot my first fish

and I feel myself

surrender

to the lure of the water

and its myriad treasures.

Later

as I float

in a school of silver

that seems to never end

I wonder, briefly,

if those cottage beds

are working the same magic

on those who’ve stayed abed.

(Poem Copyright Sally Murphy,2021)

 

Ruth is hosting the Poetry Friday Roundup. If you drop by there, you might be brave enough to add a fact for the group poem.

Copyright Sally Murphy © 2021