Ross Mabey Poet And Song-writer By Margaret Graham

Ross Mabey is 72 years old and was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease (PD) in November 2005. He was living in London UK for 15 years before returning to Australia in June 2014 accompanied by his wife Linda. Their son Jonathon, 28 years old, returned to Australia in 2012. During his working life Ross was employed in various roles in the Telecommunications industry in Australia and later in the UK. His interests include writing poetry, lyrics for songs and family history. He is also interested in researching to help find a cure for PD.

We published his feature on his work, and life a few days ago, with a promise of his poetry, and song-writing. Here it is. Enjoy.

Ross Mabey's poem and song

Poetry, A Song Of Life.

Poetry is a very personal thing,

That can lift your heart and make it sing.

Its rhythms can have a beat, like a song,

That makes you move your feet.

Or, it can be an intellectual panacea,

For those who seek life’s perfections,

Expressed in words of structured verse.

Which soothe the ripples, of this Universe.

Or, it can be a song of life,

That speaks of truth, love, joy, toil and strife.

Whatever, captures your imagination,

It can be the emotion, that adds to the tapestry of life.

Whatever appeals to your Universe,

Is hidden in words, rhymes and verse.

Their potency is felt by those,

Who feel the need to write, in anything but prose.

Copyright © 2006. Ross James Mabey.

Ross Mabey's poem cowriter

Song lyric – Montana Mountains.

By Ross Mabey and Jeffrey Ullsperger.

Verse #1

Montana Mountains, your son has come home,

Through majestic forests and valleys I now roam.

I look upon your mighty peak’s, towering above,

Their grandeur is what I can’t help but love.

montanamountains

Chorus

Montana Mountains, reaching for the sky,

Take me to a special place,

To nature’s perfect high.

You’re beauty captures my heart,

I will be yours faithfully.

So Montana Mountains won’t you,

Please speak to me.

Verse #2

By the campfire’s glow, at night all alone,

I am comforted knowing you’re part of my soul.

Surrounded by your beauty, every night and day,

The sun, the moon and stars do light my way.

montana

Chorus

Montana Mountains, reaching for the sky,

Take me to a special place,

To nature’s perfect high.

You’re beauty captures my heart,

I will be yours faithfully.

So Montana Mountains won’t you,

Please speak to me.

Bridge

When I die one day,

And home is Heaven above.

I’ll ask for a room with a view,

Of the mountains that I love.

Instrumental

Chorus

Montana Mountains, reaching for the sky,

Take me to a special place,

To nature’s perfect high.

You’re beauty captures my heart,

I will be yours faithfully.

So Montana Mountains won’t you,

Please speak to me.

Montana Mountains won’t you,

Please speak to me.

Copyright © 2009. Ross Mabey / Jeffrey Ullsperger.

 

 

Parkinson’s, Poetry And Song. Bring it on by Ross Mabey

(Australian pictures  by Brent Miller)

pic a Ross MabyIMGRoss Mabey is a poet and lyricist and was living in London when he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease (PD) in November 2005. He returned to Australia in June 2014 with his wife Linda. Their son Jonathon 28 years old, had returned to Australia in 2012.

pic 1.Devils Marbles. NT Australia.

Ross told Frost Magazine:

My love of poetry dates back to my school days in Australia. In the late 1940’s and early 1950’s, the names of Australian poets were familiar in nearly every Australian household. Poets such as, Mary Gilmore, Adam Lindsay Gordon, Henry Kendall, Henry Lawson. These poets helped capture and shape the unique character of Australians of that time. Never underestimate the deep love of poetry in the Australian psyche.

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In particular, poets were inspired by this light filled spacious country, and the unique characters that lived here. The wonderful Dorethea Mackellar expressed such a sentiment in “My Country”: “I love a sunburnt country, a land of sweeping plains. Of ragged mountain ranges, of droughts and flooding rains.” Andrew Barton (Banjo) Paterson in his poem “The Man From Snowy River”, speaks of a fearless character and his horse who without hesitation pursued wild horses down a steep mountainside, to finally round them up.

ic 3 BARRIER REEF

My love of poetry was rekindled in 1970’s when I joined a religious teaching, with a focus on creative/imaginative techniques to help individuals to understand life. However, it wasn’t until a few months after I had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease (PD) in November 2005 at the age of 63 that I had a strong desire to write poetry and lyrics for songs.

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Was it the shock of diagnosis, or the medication? Whatever it was, it wasn’t the moment to sit back and feel sorry for myself. I knew that if I wanted the rest of my life to be an interesting and productive experience, I must start creating the life that I wanted. I knew that part of the answer for me was to write lyrics for country songs, but how would I do that? And why country songs ? They were my favourite song genre, but I felt they needed a fresh approach.

Not being a musician and having little idea of how to write or structure these lyrics, I started to search the Internet looking for the answers. Eventually I emailed Jeffrey Ullsperger from Wisconsin in the US. He had experience in editing and co-writing country song lyrics. He also had a couple of songs published. Jeffrey agreed to mentor me in how to “craft” the lyrics for these songs.

pic 5. ARNHEMLAND

So 2006 brought a co-writing partnership. To date we have over 40 song “demos” produced and co-written the lyrics to other songs as well. The genre’s we write in now include Contemporary Country, Folk, Pop and the Blues. Several of our songs were entered in the UK Songwriting Contest over several years, and were rated  in the “Semi-finalist” category.

So how did this experience benefit me with regards to life in general and the PD symptoms that I have?

Without a creative interest of some kind, words like isolation, frustration and loneliness come to mind. Words like interaction, satisfaction, confidence and fulfilment were outcomes that were more appealing to me.

I am very grateful to Australia, for its beauty, co-writer Jeffrey Ullsperger for his patience, tolerance, kindness and help in this endeavour while suffering from his own health problems. Also, my gratitude goes to my wife, son, other family members, friends and many others for their love, understanding and support.

We will be featuring two poems by Ross Mabey soon. 

 

 

Trelinnoe Park With the Live Poets By Geni Ray Johnston

Frost is delighted to introduce the first of our features from Geni Ray Johnston, who lives in Taupo, New Zealand and is a member of Live Poets.

Along the old Coach Road off the Napier-Taupo Highway is a little piece of Paradise, Trelinnoe Park, created by Brian and John Wills. The Live Poets from Taupo and Hastings met there in October, the start of New Zealand’s spring, because that is the best time to see the rhododendrons in flower.

The weather forecast wasn’t hopeful, but we decided that nothing less than the road being closed by snow would stop us. After all, all manner of challenges had done nothing to prevent the brothers from turning the waste scrubland they acquired in 1956 into this glorious landscaped park. Ten poets set off in the bus from Taupo and arrived at Trelinnoe in time to grab a quick cup of coffee.

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The weather appeared to be improving so we set off to explore and found the yellow iris at their best, growing in profusion around the man made lakes. A glorious splash of sunshine on a wet day.

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We walked on and found ourselves emerging onto wide swathes of lawn, and more blossom. The lawns and trees are a structural feature of Brian and John’s design, and which give a feeling of space and perspective. This space works particularly well when set off by the slopes of woodland planting, the soaring tall trees, and of course the rhododendrons, and Magnolias (we were told we should have come in September to see the full range of Magnolias)

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Every corner revealed another vista. But gradually the rain became heavier much as it does in Cornwall, ( or so Margaret Graham tells us) where Brian and John’s grandfather lived, on a farm called Trelinnoe, before emigrating. We buttoned our coats tighter and pulled up hoods. We were still having fun. In the rain the greens were greener, and the flowers brighter.

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Conversation flowed, time passed. Shirley, Vic, and Liz took off ahead, Teresse, Joanna and I took a slightly different route. Shirley’s group had the map and we spotted them through the trees, but detouring to where they were seemed like back tracking. We forged on regardless and came upon things that amazed. This tree belongs in Lord of the Rings, I think.

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I sometimes have trouble walking if I am gallivanting for too long and the café was beckoning, so Joanna and Teresse took an arm each and we carried on.

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We saw a sculpture which was Herculean in concept, so rain not withstanding, we had a bit of a photoshoot. It was at this point a white knight on a quad bike appeared to whisk us in turn, away to the café – Bruce Wills to the rescue. I took first trip.

Away we went up hills and round bends until I was disembarked with great aplomb, back at the café and into the midst of some of the poets who had arrived back via different routes. They were well ahead with their lunch, not to mention their poetry reading.

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Bruce mounted his charger again, and returned to scoop up the rest of the missing poets, Jo, and Teresse, though I feel they would both have been happy to be ‘lost’ for a while longer to explore the riches of Trelinnoe, especially this orchid we found.

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John Wills has Parkinson’s disease and also writes poetry so he was delighted to come and join the poets and to share one of his poems. As I said when I finally dried out enough to share a poem or two ‘Anyone can walk through the park in the sun, but come in the rain, it’s much more fun!’