Fields of imagination

Wandering endlessly through golden ripe
Fields of my imagination
Scenery, smiles and conversation
Willing the future to meet me 
Back at this dream's beginning
Until restless legs and chatting
Stop pining and whistling lips
Biding time 
Woken, surprised, I meditate
Grains of sand between toes
Waves evoking chills down my spine
Patient expectation 
Waiting, hesitating
Drinking in the glorious view
Standing right here before me
Opossum Bay, lutruwita / Tasmania

Entertain an idea

On a scale of bland to grand
Some ideas seize
By the hand

Come, willing thoughts
Let me lead down garden path
A humble thought experiment
The ingredients are us

Do you dance the tango
Salsa, ballroom or swing?

Be my partner on the floor
Do you mime or sing?

Would you go to Thailand
Egypt, France or NZ?

Do you prefer the seaside
Or mansion in the city?

Would you rather hike
Into the wilderness, or ride?

Perfect night out?
Or in, or both until retired?

The need to entertain
The needs of one another's
Thoughts

The clash of minds
Can give off sparks
Like New Year's fireworks

While if they coincide
Minds grow contented
As they are

These thoughts, kind companions
Never leave us alone
Frederick McCubbin’s ‘Lost’ (1886)

Tea for two

In fiction I would be
A tea and scones librarian
With a secret archive
The contents of which
Was derived from many
Hours of polite
Conversations
How the mind
May wander
Is a marvellous
Thing indeed
L to R: by Jeff Mincham, Barbara Swarbrick and John Bartram ~ Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery

Freedom Flight

Silence descends at the end of another day

Without warning the flashbacks storm

Through my brain

Drawn into a time when I crawled along

On eight pairs of feet

You were the new green shoot

Chlorophyll, my food, curled around me

Eyes flashed cider gum blue

Spring lime green

Autumn fagus yellow in between

You were my seasons while I hid inside

Wrapped up in your goodness

Drank down till I had my fill

Pints of the stuff

Growing green to the gills

Then to withdraw into my cocoon

To become someone you might love

Silk scarves and woven cloths

Interlaced around me

As I rocked back and forth

Remembering golden haze

Of sunshine and drinking you into my pores

Tightly wound, every part of me singing

Agitating, wriggling, then deathly still

Grieving, so near, yet I am bound

Waiting, not patiently, turning inside out

Penultimate moment, a dead eye opens

In the dark

A tear in the fabric of time

My proboscis is out

Feeling tingling into the wind

No more drinking her in

I shake free my wings and navigate

Stigma dripping in nectar

Search me out

I am taken in and dipping

Soaked, drunk on wine

Pushing me beyond my tipping point

Freedom flight

Yet every waking cell in my new-found body

Calls out – who and what made me as I am now

How could I wish for any other plight?