Hue

How sweet and sour
Watching the time
Flit by

Strange how one person
Can make you
Laugh and cry
By doing nothing

I take off my
Pink hue lenses
Sheets of rain
Plummet to earth
Flooded

Shall I keep them on
For everyone's sake?

Rhythm with you
Is life
But sunnier
Than we know it

Whispers sent
Along with
Daily messages
Silence

Synaesthesia
Reveals to me
Grey and white
Like the sky today

An endless parade
Of solitary quiet

Twisting up to view
The sky
If I remain
Survive

Summer mosaic

Fingers like spindles
Weaving morning webs
Bejewelled with dew drops
Round heavenly scent

Sight show stopping
Colour shot eye
Strange ancient landscape
Evokes belated sigh

As burdens unleash
Quicken bated breath
Watch slow blooming
Patience to test

Reluctant to shine
Unsure of herself
Summer returning
Along the tarn shelf

Scars of wind whipped
Winters now sealed
Carvings of glacial
Era revealed

Peeping past curtains
Mist fringed birdsong
Cabins sleeping in
Until nights grow long

Longing for rare
Shot of red on horizon
Summer mosaic elated
Coat of bloom surprising
Tasmanian Waratah, Telopea truncata, Mt Field National Park

The clouds

If only the rain
Knew how deeply
The desert missed
Her touch
Decades drought
Then suddenly
A syncopated beat
Falls into her
She cannot breathe
Gasps, absorbs
Breaks open
New ground
Swallow pureness
Life abounds
New shoots
Emanating
Stretching fingers
Aboveground
Creating homes
For vagrant
Winged wanderers
Taking refuge
All from clouds
Common Brown Heteronympha merope (Fabricus) at Rosny Hill, Tasmania

Predilection

Black cockatoos a more reliable
Predictor of the weather
Heading east escaping vapour
Mountain hidden since dawn break

Abandon all attempts to exercise
Freedom to illustrate
Sparse drawing began
Brink of adolescence, identity elation

I leave the trailing line
Hanging poised quill laden
Ink heavy ready to spill
In favour of waiting

Forever a poem for you
A penned story always binding
Thoughts you can come home to
Though words need never rhyme

Gift of melancholy

Meticulously trawling 
Through archives
Of missed opportunity
Calling old numbers
On worn business cards
Are you still there?

Season of rearing
Likened to summers
Where grey skies
Isolate us from
Bronzed bodied beach
Work play enmeshed

Two trophies stand
Proudly against my chest
Giving out endlessly
To everyone depleted
Scars like war wounds

Though burden borne
Respond to moonlight
Swooning despite
Just a sliver
In the morning

Travelling across time
Space and memory
To wherever you
Happen to be
Field of flowers walking

Permission to unleash
All turbulent thought
Washing over trail
Of many footprints
Behind you

Rare find

Nightly thoughts invade
Missed chance blooming
Once a year
Beauty and opportunity
Keeping me awake
How long till next opening?
Keeping me grounded
Expectantly waiting
Indefinitely
Crowds gather round me
Knowing
Queen of the night
Stood over me
Displaying her colours
For one glorious moment
From then on I became
More like myself
Each passing day
Image source New York Botanical Gardens Est. 1891.

Bird on the wing

Take you with me
Everywhere I go
Wherever I stay
Yet pieces of you
Will be strewn
Carefully
Tenderly
As I speak out
A love that dared
As I shed scales
Off laden wings
Turning transparent
Emptying
Evolving
As we all are
Portraying colour
Residing within
Becoming again
A heart
That sings
Silent Spring by Gerry Wedd, South Australia