Barn Owl

Heart shaped face ghost pale

On silent wingbeats he hunts

Swoops slowly in the deep of the night

Eerie calls hang on the breeze

Returning to feed his mate and nestlings

All is right with his world

Barn Owl001 reduced quality copy

Barn Owl available in Winter Owls shop


The Owl and the Pussycat sailed through the air

The Owl and the Pussycat sailed through the air,

In a vintage green balloon.

They ate all their honey,

Spending far too much money;

Eating quince with a runcible spoon.

They floated down beside the sea

In the light of a daytime moon.

“Oh Pussy my love”

Said the Owl to the Cat,

“It’s a beach hut in place of a balloon for us”.

“A beach hut in place of a balloon”.

Replied the cat to the elegant fowl,

“As long as it’s pea green and fish can be seen,

We’ll dance there cheek by jowl.

Dance cheek by jowl”.

(A poor tribute to Edward Lears’ original nonsense rhyme. For the original rhyme and another painting of The Owl and the Pussycat see here.)

vintage balloon001 Etsy reduced quality copy

“The Owl and the Pussycat sailed in the air”

Three Black Owls

Three Black Owls

Painted on a dictionary page,

The three of us will never age.

Our feathers will remain black

And will not grey upon our backs.

Three birds of wisdom we shall remain

And of this page we will pertain.

Jen Ross 2013

Three black owls reduced for etsy

Three Black Owls painted on a vintage dictionary page

3 black owls copyrighted reduced qualilty for etsy

“Three Black Owls” original painting available in my Etsy Shop

Happy Australia Day!

My Country

The love of field and coppice,
Of green and shaded lanes.
Of ordered woods and gardens
Is running in your veins,
Strong love of grey-blue distance
Brown streams and soft dim skies
I know but cannot share it,
My love is otherwise.

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror –
The wide brown land for me!

A stark white ring-barked forest
All tragic to the moon,
The sapphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon.
Green tangle of the brushes,
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops
And ferns the warm dark soil.

Core of my heart, my country!
Her pitiless blue sky,
When sick at heart, around us,
We see the cattle die –
But then the grey clouds gather,
And we can bless again
The drumming of an army,
The steady, soaking rain.

Core of my heart, my country!
Land of the Rainbow Gold,
For flood and fire and famine,
She pays us back threefold –
Over the thirsty paddocks,
Watch, after many days,
The filmy veil of greenness
That thickens as we gaze.

An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land –
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand –
Though earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown country
My homing thoughts will fly.

Dorothea Mackellar
A  homesick young Australian woman wrote this poem sometime before 1908, while on a visit to England. It was a poem taught to all Australian children during my time in Primary school. Whilst most Australians are now city dwellers, many of us still feel a deep connection to the land and it’s a poem that speaks to our national identity. I think I could live  elsewhere, for a while, but would always be yearning for my beautiful, harsh country.
tea towel 3 watermarked

My home is in Melbourne in South Eastern  Australia.

tea towel 4 watermarked

Australian wild flowers

tea towel 2 watermarked

A vintage find.