Love like

A mirror
Can't bear to
Open my eyes
Under covers
Hide

Alter reality
Two dimensional
Altar ego responds
Completely to me
Yet every touch
Cold

Do I need to
Be like you
To like you
Like I do?
I do

Loving me
Means
Loving you
Is it a crime to?

All the shades
Of blue reflect
To infinity
With you
River Derwent, lutruwita/ Tasmania Australia.

Walls

Wartburg, Germany
The highest place is found
Not in turrets overlooking
In case of enemy approaching
Watching people scrambling

Over walls and hedges
Keeping us and them
Out and in, tethered
Away to stay, forever

No need to hide when
Love is measured by
Lesser distance between
Community is all around

Distance is never felt
Between two willing
Hearts that measure
No one or thing
Without love

More than words

Strange how the music 
Can say what lies inside
Better than own lips
Better still, silence
Reveals a sonnet
Of secrets

That moment between words
When the body speaks
To affirm or contradict
Knowing moves
Of safety

Alone with thoughts
On the edge of wild
Never live lonely
Affect writes thesis
Of sanity

Wondering brain waves
Sing on wind and wire
Telegraph of love
Words no limit
Of sound

Don't Stop.
Maria Island, Tasmania

Ten past the hour

Fingers curl
Firm and fine
Tender and strong
Curiously hide
Brushing away
Wounds of yesterday
Laughing reciting
Memories opening
Adventures in love
Happening upon
Fragrant finds
Drinking in senses
Rarities afew
Treasures abound
Waiting minute more
With you
Ophelia by John William Waterhouse

No Doubt

A fresh gust of reality
Bites hard against
The skin

Sea spray sand blasts
Smooth stones against
The rocks

Shells hollow and warm
Release life amidst
The storm

Taken by wind or strike
Lofty feathers fly in
The heat

Still ruffled by strife
Tending precious ones
The heart

Decades dedicated two
So few remained
The start

Every time is new again
With you
Maria Island, Tasmania

Begin again

Streets of my town
Taken to wits end
Edge of the precipice
Dark history amend

Not long since
A new breeze swept
Through winding lanes
Rows of vines well kept

As if breathed new air
Kept pace petite feet
Leading me down
Swans and starlings greet

Once again sandstone town
Sits longingly by river seat
Stands tall and proud
Once again, my retreat

Richmond, Tasmania

Goulds cure

Of all the finest examples 
Giving light and life
With each seeming to have
Its own personality and mood
The finest outline
Is drawn from that feeling
Of wonderment
The fall of the brush
Speaking more in silence
Than a thousand words spoken
With love
William Buelow Gould, Still life a bunch of flowers, 1838. Artists of Tasmania. Allport Museum and Art Gallery