ramblings and things

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They talk about Poachers' Moon
That November full moon night 
When by tradition peasants used 
That hours long bright light
To mop up the scarce game left
After the hunting season.
But tradition doesn't fit wih
Common sense and reason.

Whether using snares
Gun and lead shot,
Traps or ferret and net,
To try fill a family pot
It was darkness required,
Darkness the poacher's friend
For an encounter with a Keeper
Could bring freedom to an end.

Those transportation ships 
To Van Diemans land,
To protect the rights of that
Select land owning band.
Not needing to search for food
Just filling up their leisure
Organising the hunts for
Their and their friends' pleasure.

To hunt by necessity 
To feed starving kith and kin
Though a poor persons' need,
Was by law a heinous sin.
So many ships involved
In the transportation trade
So many poor deported,
So many one way trips made.

No, darkness and starlight
Were the poachers' real friend
Together with their skill to bring 
The night to successful end. 
No sporting venture
But with a famly to feed
Just fulfilment of 
A basic need.

So talk about your Poachers' Moon
But give me darkness velvet deep
For  those small hours when 
With luck the Keeper sleeps.
Should he by chance
Be there alert and awake
A velvet black night gave
A much better chance of escape.






 


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Poachers` Moon