Won't you meet me
On New Year's Eve
At Nine O'Clock
At the compass rose
Tell me things
About your past
Lead me to wherever
You're going
Take us away
From place of Princes
Down the green
To the waters edge
Where sun and moon
Both kiss the water
As they rise
To greet you
Gold-plated crafted
By the finest dreams
Of our generation
A mission of a lifetime
A decade, years unknown
When completed
Could it become
Another star in the sky
Revolving around the sun?
Discovering new things
About worlds beyond
A job that is never done
Twisting and turning
Ignoring nature's revolution
A revelation in the eyes
Of one
Wouldn't it be nice to find ourselves part of
A glorious story in reality
Shaped by forces hidden beyond our fingertips
Making any other story mere novelty
Unable to hold our imagination beyond
Our waking thoughts
To wish to be awake
Because dreams are not
As tantalising as
Reminscing upon real life
And taking it all
In your mind to its natural end
In this, being one's own best friend means
To reach out again and again
For what the heart needs
To do and say daily
Not only to stay alive but thrive
To be a starring part in our own story
Rush of waves of air
Past the ears
Hot air rising
Up and out the mouth
'Fix a basket below
Call out Here we go!'
Altitude whirring
Latitude stirring
Mending and lashing holes
Forgive me for not
Holding you in my arms
Pulling lines and sandbags
Forgot the sparkling
Though the water looks divine
Floating on a mystery tour
Riding a technicolour dreamcoat
Falling slowly
Seeking sure footing
More than I'll ever be
Landing softly in fields of gold
Under covers
Slide between sheets
Fingers fondle
Turn a new leaf
Entering into
Worlds unseen
Stars in eyes
Hold and breathe
Drama unfolding
Pushing bounds
Reality dissolves
Dreams are found
Singers bellow
Dancers twirl
Look no further
Bookish girls
The humble bumblebee
Is fascinated with me
Common sparrow
Stands watch roof peak
Windows empty
Stare down on me
Reflecting sunset
Mirroring eyes
Unknown creatures
Crawl on shoulder sleeve
Listening to incessant
Whispering on breeze
Eight legged arachnids
Move house with me
Settling in
Exploring walls, hallways
Pleasantly content
With new digs
Inhabiting new territory
Small wonders feast eyes
A house of ten feet
Drifting in a daze
Holiday makers
Anywhere we please
To call home
It's too easy to erase
The space an other takes
No place to call home
No favourite dates
Though in absentia
Loved ones grow
Disproportionate to
Size in life
Taking up thought waves
Morning and night
Sitting snugly beside
On a Saturday night
Saving a seat next to
Chair held by arm
As if waiting for you
To return from the bar
Favourite moments play
Like a love song on repeat
Willing me to believe
Wholeheartedly
Despite not seeing
Feeling or holding
Perfume drifting
Evoking sense bodily
Love is real
John Elliot Museum, University of Tasmania.
To bear
Not to blame
Open the gates
Running away
Pointing star
Toward the void
Seemingly endless
Space between us
In the silence
Flag flying
Falls and furls
To the ground
Fences down
She crosses over
Settlers land
Like she always did
On Bruny Island
Feet tread lightly
Lately leaders
Learn to follow
Across fallow fields
On her heels
Cotton wool covering
Envelopes the sky
Carpeted canopy
Of green lay over
Caress of waves lap
At the edges
This is her land
Forever
Heart's on my knees
Trying to keep afloat
Through turbulent years
Performance anxiety
Staring at solid ground
Horizon fades
Crest of a wave appears
Galley is silent
Only those with iron cast
Stomach and resolve
Can tend to us
All these fomative years
Stores severely depleted
Only squash and lime
Every hour a day
On lookout all the time
Who steers the ship
Back to safe harbour?
Only curl and wait
Until it's over
Solid star hovering over
Posing in greyness
Striking through deliberate
Claiming the pinnacle
Peak most tender point
Baring nerve endings
Of the mountain
Changeable in season
Day and hour
Unpredictable
Never tire of watching
Waiting to draw curtain
From mist and storm
Evaporating
One day lost from
Following twisting paths
Do we never leave
Sea level again?
How to find you now
Not knowing the place
Like the back of my hand
Hiding in the crevices
Waiting for help at hand
Sea legs cave under me
Used to bouyancy
Not the heavy hand
Of altitude
Beckoning voice
Reckons waypoints
Would never be reached
To begin with
Count the stars of heaven 