Author Archives: aperture

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About aperture

Living on the island state of Tasmania, Australia. Narrating life through poetry and photography.

House by the sea

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Such a happy circumstance
To wind and reel in
Making it easy for you
To catch your tea

I would sit inside bay window 
Watching a vinyl record 
Revolve like my small world
On repeat

The safety of familiar tunes
Singing a harmony
Clawing fingers through
A shag pile rug

Life seems lovely
Until the wind and storms
Batter the front
Waves dare to sweep away

All I need is a cabin
A cosy corner bed
With lamp and books
Leather chair

A place to curl my toes
Sip tea and powder nose
The best view I could find
Would be with you inside
Hinsby beach, Taroona ~ overlooking River Derwent, lutruwita / Tasmania

Finders keepers…

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So simplistic were the rhymes
Of my childhood
Aesop and Mother Goose
Taught me how to be good
Kind and wise
Avoid Miss-Understood

Yet, they did not share with me
In black and white ink
How to dare to care 
When life is on the brink
Of falling in and down
Afraid there is no settling

The nesting and pruning
Of love birds in tune
With one another
Humdrum forgetting
Singing, fanning plumage
Making room

If you should find a lover
Try to keep her hand
But if lost remember -
Not to weep for
The Summer nights
On a cold, dark night
in June.

Silver fox

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Grey lady hanging on
To the edge
Overlooking harbour view
Slender and proud

Twisting round to glimpse
Decades of bobbing heads
Like buoys on waves
Coming in shivering

Brave showing her age
Engraved beauty
Limbs reach out
Welcome stranded men

Come warm yourself 
On the rocky shores
Casting a shadow
To danger marker

Pointing windeward
Shaped by her forces
Invisibly caressing
To bow and bend

A heart full

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Funny how Cosette
Hands clutched to heart
Could sing of love
While another watching on
Full and empty
Is often only
A few streets
Between them
Mind games
Toying teasing
Playing with its strings
Only hurts the more
When love comes to
An end
How often no one knows 
For whom
The river runs deeply
Until it flows no more

All that glitters

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Fur babies and toddlers
Ambled up and down
Undulating  hills
Edge of grass against
Soft waves of sand
All breeds of humans
Come from sun up to down
I landed on these shores
To start a life anew
To resurrect and hope
For a future
Somehow the shine
On the water
Brightens the day
Even when tears
Choke back the words
A stranger sits beside me
And is more of a friend
Than any
Telling me her story
Without asking 
Noticing my tears
She bids farewell
I say goodbye to Ollie
Her dog
She smiles
Acknowledging
Her one and only
Love

Life’s work

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Being present
Even if
Mind is elsewhere
What I promised
To my chillins
When born
Their knowledge of love
Comes from this assurance 
I am always there for them
No matter where I am
To be present 
Even in absence
Is all we require
Of love
If this is too much or
Love is not enough
Better to depart
And allow
The space to be 
Renewed
If you will

Chillins, term of endearment for Scout and Jem by Calpurnia their cook, in To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee.

The end

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Source: Journal ~ 2015

Affection for a close companion
Can grow should a spark
Be fanned into flame
- if a spark existed at all

So yes, I could reasonably 
Imagine growing 
Attracted to someone 
Based on a mutual friendship
Over a long period of time.
Good looks and physique
Have never been 
A precursor to attraction 
For me

I am mindful of the heart
Of another
- this is all I see 
On the skin and face
The smile and eyes
Come from within 

For the sake of joy
To preserve 
my future life and family
Shortly, my desire to live

I remembered what love 
Ought to feel like.
A careless abandon
That let go of
Self-consciousness...

This ignited in me
A fire that can never
Be put out