Light and gentle movement Stretch and bolster vitality Sending hope waves through the brain. Invitations to Sunday afternoon Drives winding through rainforest Sunlight dapples breath taking To a hotel nestled in gentle folds Of ancient mountain. Return to oneself. Bathe in possibility lain broken. Dare not feed the narrative of turbulent deep dreams Though if disturbed by slumber's provocative story telling Hope awakens with bird song daily Dreams escaped To a reality which is perhaps dull in comparison.
Morning snow at Mount Field National Park Tasmania
We are planetary beings You, a large gas giant Me, one of many Moons in orbit Holding all force Against gravity Between us Or else be plunged Into a remote desert A mere scar upon Your landscape Slow disappearing Shifting sands of time No home to call Mine
I could be your one and only Strength for the mission Cure for the lonely I would find treasured tales Buried in our morning tide
One day these pages will open up Labyrinthine stairwell Overseen by rock cathedral Passing strangers alight its halls
Will you dance with them till midnight? Or lie with them till noon? Breaths measured by the waves lapping Under gentle moon
I too, long to relish life For years of back breaking toil Nigh on broke my spirit So bond with me, lover, friend Though plea not to be loyal to all others Forsooth, my heart's not in it.
This Old Love, seafaring ship Of finest wood & Craftsmanship Its maiden voyage Some four years hence When feral seas drove us West I've sailed her all around the world Docked in places ne'er afore found Secure at anchor, I'd explore Wonders of the world unfold Through rocky isles and coral reefs Its bow has turned me safe to keep All precious cargo Fit and well Squabbling over fine ship's bell The final storm, the wrecking one Wind whipped sail and broached hull She turned us in to sheltered bay The weight of shore broke her away We battled through torrential rain Huddled in the bow all day Then clear, still morn Sun did arise All our crew woke in surprise Old Love was gone to seabed reef For seals and manta rays to sleep We walked ashore and carried on Mountains climbed, beaches swum Though many tales I have to tell Of Old Love's ventures riding swell A ghost ship now No one believes Such vessels are imaginary I tip my hat, to one who'll come To sail away into the sun For tinker, sailor, Captain be This Old Love was made by me
More so than The breaking of bread It's the gentle tap of rain on tin roof That turns into a gale While two souls gently unfurl Tummies full of soup Grateful for gables to collect drops As hopes, fears and dreams swim in the air.
Steamy plunge of tannins Soaking in tea cups Stories waft like mist On cold winter mornings As moody songs fill the silent space between two beings.
Wild wings of wind pick up frothy tips of waves and cast them off in spray. Wow, we proclaim. Shed our outer skin to soak in deep ocean. No words needed. A watershed moment.
Count the stars of heaven 