Of all the treasures
I've ever seen
Wisdom, beauty, truth
Redeemed
Finest gifts
Rarest traits
Trust is bound
Longing waits
The seashells of Tasmania: a comprehensive guide by Simon Grove. 2nd ed. 2019.
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Category Archives: Love
Wishes in a bottle
Lift the lid on
Colourful opportunism
Take your pick
I chose you
At first glance
Cranberry dreams
Soaked in liqueur
A dollop of cream
From the same maker
We all are and yet
Shelved by label
Aroma drifts
Scented desire
Lifts my mood
Day and night
Yet never to taste
Admire the flavours
On wrists, nape of neck
Dab on lips
A pity to waste
Something so beautiful
Perched high with only
A window view
Wherever you go
Take me with you
Islands in the sky
A word can change a life
Fool for love
Placid shores
The salty sea understands
Vast unbounded loneliness
Despite surrounded by
Bountiful land
Fringed with company
Immersed in memories
Exuding calmest thought
Her placid shores
Lap at my feet
Spurring me on
Tell her
How do I tell her?
Devotion rises
Tide to chin
Sea grass waves
Goodbye
How to live a dream?
Kitchen window spying
Blue gum branches
Conjures fantasies
Surprises
How to love oneself?
Believe there is more
Waiting somewhere
Far away unknown
Renowned
How to make sense?
Words splayed daily
Confusion sets in
Love on the spectrum
Beginnings
Fleeting moments
Some like sky
Affect ever changing
Fleeting clouds as moments
Intentions dissipate
Others are moonshaped
Soothsayers drawing in
Ocean whim of attraction
Bold orb to winsome sliver
While those most like
Giants of the forest
Branches give shade to
Vulnerable young creatures
Might shed leaves to reinvigorate canopy
A season long hopeful wait
Of beauty immeasurable
While one of deeply held belief
Molten desire tense decades
Ashen interest rises
Eruption surprises
Constant fault lines rift
Ocean islands drift
Gentle seasons in the South
Etched in my memory forever
Tall stories
What say you?
Shall we dance at noon?
Sit amidst the Silvereye's
Playground of golden limbs
Crumbs picked off tables
Sparring with families
Wrens and yellow-throated
Honeyeaters, whose plumage
Blends beautifully
In the dappled grove
Of Autumn
Telling tall stories
Interspersed with gluttonous
Bursts of jam packed lips
Licked clean with cream
Tales of loves lost and found
A local muse renown
As fallen leaves we pine
For far away spring
Fawning
Heartache
Need not be a bad thing
Laying eyes upon the world
Though one absent
Arousing beauty within
A momentary glimpse
An hour, a day
What of it?
It plays over
Again endless
Pictures of you
Parade through chaos
Marching bands
Entwining hands
Only mine at twilight
Count the stars of heaven 