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About
Moonshine Valley Wild grasses I know you, let me come in,
cocksfoot and clover, prairie grass, fennel and rye,
give me a good place to lie
here in the hillside's hollow
full of green smells and heat,
and the buzz of the earth's brain
ruminating away beneath
grasses singing old earth rolling rolling
and the Rimutakas riding their blue horses on the sky.
Brown top, featherhead, plaintain and cutty grass,
a dozen yards to the dog daisies
beside the dry stones of the road;
and the wind heading on up the valley,
crossing the Moonshine,
over the mountains and north
to the Wairarapa's sun-dazed plains
grasses singing old earth rolling rolling
and the Rimutakas riding their blue horses on the sky.
Nowhere to go, the road all dust and danger,
houses full of grief, and quarrelling
in the hot street of the town,
come take me you wild warm grasses
hide me an hour or so from the world's sickness, drown
its cries with your resonant harmonies
grasses singing old earth rolling rolling
and the Rimutakas riding their blue horses on the sky.
Commissioned note
Commissioned by the Independent Schools Council with funding assistance from the Arts Council of New Zealand Toi Aotearoa.
Text note
Text by Lauris Edmond