Love like

Haymaking
Sunshine and rain
Brave one who
Hops onboard
Riding forward
While others gather
Receiving stores
Bailing and loading
Sundried piled high
Wheat and straw
For each living thing
In community
Out of rain
Hoping greenness
Had gone away
Save spontaneous
Combustion

Meanwhile few
Content with
Love's gleanings
Slim pickings
On the fringe
Taking only
What they need
To feed or bake
Wheaten loaf
For family roast
Horse or goat
Stave off hunger
Together
For one more day
The Gleaners by Jean-Francois Millet

Love is all you need

In the hey daze they believed
Love is all you need
Offspring of starched
Apron generation
A leaf out of a book
Cruel to be kind
Post migration
Preceded by a silent
- Exclamation -

All we see is HMV
Flapper dress hair
Glitz and flare
Through movies eyes
We hypnotize
My conflagration
Of X, Y's, Z's and I
Digital pinnacle to climb
Steadily insisting
We are living in
Unprecented times
This is my generation

Seeking inspiration
With glowing eyes
Yet the sweetest find
Is in your smile
Portrait by Lily Allport ~ Artists of Tasmania.

Did I?

Did I enjoy that moment then?
When turning a ginger cat out of bed
To sit sublime and write stories
Sip tea and reminisce that moment when

A merry go round of accidents
Incidents, coincidences
Wishing away the minutes
Until another one happens again

Sit steadily, observing
All the people, things, moments
A blade of grass, a couple kissing
Lights flashing, red and blue

Actions shots
Still life
I crawl into my den
Soaking in moments when
In revelry

Devotedly, the afternoon sun
Casts a warm embrace
Over my arms
Shadows dance on black and white keys

As my fingers touch lightly
An enchanting unity
Nature has the key
Buzz pollinating in B minor

Like a moth drawn to a flower
Love is not dangerous
It laments to carry a sting
Used if love is not our best intention

Flow

To have words trampled
Beneath the cart wheels
On the streets
of old St Petersburg
Crimes a mystery
Hung backlit
By brazen streetlight
Broken, worn, blue
Time it takes
To decide ~ are they done?
Will they heal?
Slowly drip feeding
Stew of broth
Building marrow
Until the shine
In the eyes returns
Upon hearing
A chorus
Seeing a glorious
Image of affection
At mere mention
A novel moment
Produces a turrent
Cascading into
Rivers winding
Bringing life
Bearing it to sea
Setting free

Hearing voices

Low pizzicato
Grows to resonant
Rumblings
Smooth like honey
Touching on
Harmonics
Whispered words
Tentatively
Articulated
Urging me on
Telling me
Love has won
Wishing it would
Appear to me
Familiar turn
Of phrase
Accented praise
Behind my shoulder
Turn suddenly
It follows me
Dawning slowly
This voice
Is here
Within

House by the sea

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

Silver fox

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

All that glitters

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

Mind matters

I wish to be your human
And you could be mine
-My feline friend says proudly-
I hope you don't mind

Such bravery to crawl on me
And underneath the covers
To twirl between my legs
Kiss my nose like I'm his mother

Such boldness is endearing
For what else really matters
Than telling your favourite human
That their absence leaves you scattered

To be near you every day
Or even once a week
Would make all of the difference
To the life I'd wish to lead

To be with you and drink
In the regular everyday
When I run out of words
And hear all you have to say

But dare I say I am
With you always anyway
Only river between
Not an ocean or a fray

- Rest assured I'd gladly swim
The distance any day -

Can you believe my thoughts
Are often interrupted
By the time you liked my shirt
Or by a joke, at me, directed

The time you sat beside me
Every word believed as true
Reciting leaves and lemon trees
Realised was all for you

Painting of a picture
With those stories far and wild
Imagine all those places
From your thoughts to ease my mind

A literary meeting
Like some tower here in Oz
Where heart, soul and mind
Find out they were there
All along

Beauty in remaking

Fine lines and filagree tracing
Fingers follow edges
Soft downy folds
Velvety lacing

Artful designer raises
Takes down asunder
Plundering wealth
Riches beyond dreams
Earth Woman wonder

Just as in a day
Can take a breath
Enslave it
By evening freed
In listless sigh
Of resignation
And sleep
Don't dream it, be it
Is nature's cry
As several evolutions
Of matter
Land on my thigh
Her eyes trace the outlines
Mating decorations
Imagining them away
To nothing
Come undone
Completely
For several hundred and one
Days spent between extremes
Fighting, crying, sight
Laughing, smiling, delight
No greater affirmation
More than three letters
Yes, or I do
In the still dark silence
There is none other
But you
Artists of Tasmania ~ Lucienne Rickard. Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery.