‘Skilled in sweet measures, and mistress of the Tyre…’ H. Poynter. R.A. Presented by Miss Ada Wilson.’
This Too Shall Pass, Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery.
Chloe
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Category Archives: Tasmania
In week of want
In week of want
She fell
Barely breathing
Soft down
Mother beaten
By quoll creeping
By midnight
Took her all
Plucked up
Tucked inside
The crevice of
My cleavage
Feeling beats
Smelling skin
Plucking courage
To cuddle in
Come by night
Settle in
On straw
Under lamp light
By morn I woke
She lay still
Crushed by
Weight of
Loneliness
Sometimes
Only hearing
Beats feeling
Spark of love
Healing
None else
Can be
Our light
Airs and Graces
Inspire
Expire
She moves on air
Vanishing
Deflating
When I first woke
From the nightmare
The cold sweat
Refreshing
All I'd claimed in me
Reappeared
Instantaneously
Writing profusely
My claim to fame
Spoke, wore, dared
Ignition broke
Driver beware
Ditched high hopes
Road to nowhere
Retreated inside
Capacious bare
Only to cling to
Fortunate words
Mythical poems
Senses and nerves
Prove them right
I lose myself
Prove them wrong
Push away
Yeast rising
Hot air
Proves
Daily bread
Every other voice
Chimes in
Beautifully
But only one
Cures gracefully
Sitting pretty
Perched above
Harbour views
Self-soothe
Record player
Of youth
Going roundabout
She is all and all
The girl on the corner
Flipping the bird
Tough time town
Take my word
Tears spilled always
Losing another
Cast away
Girl Friday
No long play
Nor single
Sings the lyrics
I wish to say
Fingers touch
Words into being
Never having
Your own
Living
Breathing
In love
May Queen
Ever since when
Tucked inside
Safe harbour
Tending to
All her needs
When onlookers
Admire her wisdom
Sweat and tears
Protected for
The power
Of her beauty
All these years
Missing you
Tied alongside
Sitting idle
Remembering
The thrill
Of the ride
Ocean waves
Hello
Goodbye
See you
Another time
Fresh air
Breeze
On skin
Salty
Turning
Rusty
Wanting
Washing over
Moving freely
Never feeling
Time enough
When made
For you
Caught in the storm
Lured from tree house
Hiding places
Secure warm
From tiny throne
Leading loyal ones
To the next home
Caught in a storm
Taken down
As one
She is queen
Her word is won
Workers lives
Depend upon
Sudden storm
Mass extinction
Regret moving
Even mentioned
For one that brings
Our hearts attention
This day such loss
Is worth a mention
On the wind
Surrounding me
at table
While they make
a cup of tea
Feet dance down
The valley
To observe swell
Of spring
Pause and ponder
Habitat
Wonder gaping
Tiny things
Glorious enormity
Companion
On the wind
The special two
The special two
Who walk idly
Along the beach
In their imagination
Smiling at passersby
Holding hands
Greeting fellow
Furry four-leg friends
A woman's worth
Measured in beats
Of our hearts
Glad to be alive
She spies her love
Like a sweet secret
A jar of pear drops
Hidden entreat
Seeking waterfalls
Watching them spill
Away to sea
Feelings cascade
Endlessly
Crimson kiss
Would I be amiss
To ask you
As the rain
Washes through
Opening again
Until the summer
Scorches us
We hide away
Missing crimson
Pea flower
At Christmas
A woman’s worth
As hours expire
Gazing window view
Love of labour retire
Labour of love renew
Little surprises find
As a couple appeal
Acknowledge fine hands
That made our meal
Return home to kiss
Heads upward bent
Work to prepare
A meal among friends
A satisfied look
Falls on tired faces
Giving love and life
Into all open spaces
Count the stars of heaven 