Le papillon chanter
Fleurs du jardin
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Category Archives: Love
Fungi
Lonely gecko shelters
Under fungi parasol
Waiting for love
Crumbs
So long to have lived
With tiny indifference
Savour stale bite
A lack of substance
Silence to question
Deaf ear to conversation
Closed eyes to presence
Denied a way out
So starved of kindness
Robbed of affection
The bitter chill of winter
All we know of love
Love like
A pollinator
Butterflies
Blatantly mating
In the open
Aphids, bees
Hum a love song
Bow and peep
No rules against
Two stigmas
Solar plexus
Sun-burst braid of nerves
Melding thoughts chased
By gut reasoning
Breathe in deeply
Sense its signal
A visceral axis
When I see her walking
Down yesterday's pathway
The sun inside lights up
Warms the belly
Tingling spine
Heart stops a beat of time
Left speechless, still and wanting
Waiting
Solitude seems socially unacceptable
Depending on the setting
Is it mysterious to wander along the beach
In interminable solitude?
Not a single bark could break.
Or solo cinematic scenes
Where similarly independent
Movie-goers give
Knowledgeable nod
No crime of post-show criticism to endure
Obnoxious conversation and laugh-out-loud bores.
No, the only antidote to such affliction
Of unmet needs in company left wanting
To explore the world through these eyes
No intolerable distractions
To sense, feel alive again, to learn and pay attention
Solitude a saving grace
For the tender hearted
So easily bruised by heated exchanges.
Exotics
My body is not a commodity
A kiss is not a currency
In too-familiar territory
Heavy feather of expectation
In all the natural world
We are enamoured by a species
Whose female decides
By right and reason
How exotic ~ a bird, frog or spider
For exercising will to allow or deny
Whose freedom to foster new life?
Storm inside
These warm grey days
Staccato rain, occasional
Blasts of wild west wind
Drop down the lee of the mountain
Resonating with inner barometer
Warm, still body
Turbulent thoughts, occasional
Gusts of the past kick up
Sting the eyes, dry the mouth
Waiting for a warm spring downpour
Persistent trill, soft beat of drum on skin
Melds with melancholy strings
A Symphony of meteorological sounds
Without and within
Hope remains
Once all disaster
Terror and misfortune
Evaporate
Into yesterday's news
Hope remains
Often locked inside
Bereft of seeing daylight
For to hold in one hand
Hurts far more than
A lifeline with frayed end
Donaghy’s Hill, Franklin Wild-Rivers National Park, Tasmania
Synchronicity stops
Cogs turn, missed click
Metal teeth grind
Against the beat
Synergy of life abounds
All around us, and yet
Is out of reach
Degrees of connection
Warm my feet
Coincidence lurks on well-lit streets
Tingling of nose tells
Opportunity a pop up stall
Till its flimsy walls fall flat
No matter about that
Cool your toes in sparkling springs
Curl inside a woollen coat
Though novelty may cause a thrill
Normality a tonic for chills
From cool far-off glance of lands of never-will
