Magnetic north

No room at the inn
For fair weather friend
It is rarely so fair
So close to Antarctic
Even in Bermuda
Smooth sailing unlikely
When a meteor
Millions of years ago
Can still mess with
Direction finding
Compass swirling
While land locked ones
Hang around in bars
Drinking Sunrises
By the glass
Why is the needle
Always pointing South
Where the shadows are cast
By the winter sun?
To those in motherland
We are indeed upside down

Did I?

Did I enjoy that moment then?
When turning a ginger cat out of bed
To sit sublime and write stories
Sip tea and reminisce that moment when

A merry go round of accidents
Incidents, coincidences
Wishing away the minutes
Until another one happens again

Sit steadily, observing
All the people, things, moments
A blade of grass, a couple kissing
Lights flashing, red and blue

Actions shots
Still life
I crawl into my den
Soaking in moments when
In revelry

Devotedly, the afternoon sun
Casts a warm embrace
Over my arms
Shadows dance on black and white keys

As my fingers touch lightly
An enchanting unity
Nature has the key
Buzz pollinating in B minor

Like a moth drawn to a flower
Love is not dangerous
It laments to carry a sting
Used if love is not our best intention

Flow

To have words trampled
Beneath the cart wheels
On the streets
of old St Petersburg
Crimes a mystery
Hung backlit
By brazen streetlight
Broken, worn, blue
Time it takes
To decide ~ are they done?
Will they heal?
Slowly drip feeding
Stew of broth
Building marrow
Until the shine
In the eyes returns
Upon hearing
A chorus
Seeing a glorious
Image of affection
At mere mention
A novel moment
Produces a turrent
Cascading into
Rivers winding
Bringing life
Bearing it to sea
Setting free

Hearing voices

Low pizzicato
Grows to resonant
Rumblings
Smooth like honey
Touching on
Harmonics
Whispered words
Tentatively
Articulated
Urging me on
Telling me
Love has won
Wishing it would
Appear to me
Familiar turn
Of phrase
Accented praise
Behind my shoulder
Turn suddenly
It follows me
Dawning slowly
This voice
Is here
Within

House by the sea

Such a happy circumstance
To wind and reel in
Making it easy for you
To catch your tea

I would sit inside bay window
Watching a vinyl record
Revolve like my small world
On repeat

The safety of familiar tunes
Singing a harmony
Clawing fingers through
A shag pile rug

Life seems lovely
Until the wind and storms
Batter the front
Waves dare to sweep away

All I need is a cabin
A cosy corner bed
With lamp and books
Leather chair

A place to curl my toes
Sip tea and powder nose
The best view I could find
Would be with you inside
Hinsby beach, Taroona ~ overlooking River Derwent, lutruwita / Tasmania

Silver fox

Grey lady hanging on
To the edge
Overlooking harbour view
Slender and proud

Twisting round to glimpse
Decades of bobbing heads
Like buoys on waves
Coming in shivering

Brave showing her age
Engraved beauty
Limbs reach out
Welcome stranded men

Come warm yourself
On the rocky shores
Casting a shadow
To danger marker

Pointing windeward
Shaped by her forces
Invisibly caressing
To bow and bend

Beauty in remaking

Fine lines and filagree tracing
Fingers follow edges
Soft downy folds
Velvety lacing

Artful designer raises
Takes down asunder
Plundering wealth
Riches beyond dreams
Earth Woman wonder

Just as in a day
Can take a breath
Enslave it
By evening freed
In listless sigh
Of resignation
And sleep
Don't dream it, be it
Is nature's cry
As several evolutions
Of matter
Land on my thigh
Her eyes trace the outlines
Mating decorations
Imagining them away
To nothing
Come undone
Completely
For several hundred and one
Days spent between extremes
Fighting, crying, sight
Laughing, smiling, delight
No greater affirmation
More than three letters
Yes, or I do
In the still dark silence
There is none other
But you
Artists of Tasmania ~ Lucienne Rickard. Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery.

Steer ashore

Fear grips tightly
At the helm
Taking over orders
Pulling us in

Over our heads
Waves crashing
Broached to
Shoal approaching

No lives lost
Crew is down
Handing over
Dogs to morning

Rolling like a lullaby
Reassuring
Raised a lighthouse
First sighting

Pinnacle gives way
To coast
Welcome faces
Twirling smoke

Casting lines
Shorebound stagger
Every sight new
Intricate beauty

Island delights
Happen upon flower
Resiliently tender
Heart own power

Fear of the storm
All but gone
Only shaking hands
Wide eyed one

Never leaving
Smiles receding
As night creeps in
Farewell again

Handing over everything
Knowing no direction
Trusting wholly
In you

Falling

Swept
Breath
Fall

Off their feet
Taken away
On their knees

Sounds divine?
We have a lifetime
To work it out
How to live in love

From this position
Upturned
Breathless
Lying low

We will need
Every day
However long
It should take

To know
How to stand
Held hands
Walk on
Artists of Tasmania ~ William Buelow Gould, Kennedia prostrata, Red prostrate creeper. C 1837.

Allport Library and Museum Collection, State Library of Tasmania.

Belonging

If a sprout takes root
On an Island
That drifts away
Heading South
It was always there

Seeds that flew in
On the breeze
Hosted by birds
Do we blame these
Mixed leaves?

So what happens
When I wander hills
Wondering whether
This bloom or that
Warrants attention

Is all life
Worth a mention?