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
Taroona Shot Tower, Tasmania

Revelry

He kept a fossilised shell
Plucked from highlands
Of Papua New Guinea
Proof of the flood, he mused
It remained on window sill
Overlooking rivulet
Tasmanian native garden
Decked with terracotta pot violets
Greeting me at the stairs
A huon pine drooped drearily
In the shade on the way
To wrought iron tables and chairs
I would finish the dishes from fossil shelled kitchen window
Spying the revelry outside
Before bringing tepid coffee from new machine
At Christmas time
All the while forgetting
To call my own family
A thousand miles away

Scattered past

Grateful for delicious cake
Left over from celebrations
Side glance conversations
Walking past to other table destinations

Qualifications on displays
Of generous affection
Home made, ends of yarning
Only small price to pay

Tid bits of life history
Scattered on forest path
Leading to bare timber hut
Alpine hills, no wood heater

Scaling walls with hand sized holds
Cold and rough chalk grip
Overhang semicolon coming
The weight of it

Slimming, championing own cause
Slough off personal flaws
Penning my life's work
To scatter into the silence

So it is to love the unknown
Grown accustomed
Sparse reply a gentle sword
To hang on her every word

To the wire

Speaking sense to reason
A hard task to undertake
Especially when reason
Gives silent treatment

Only the echo of sentiment
Reverberates tentative
Across noughts and ones
Dots, pixels all night long

What is not relayed at all
The way I kiss the skin
Of cold bitten cheek
Sitting at the lights

Or how I warm your couch
Create a new world
Birthed by the moment
You gave me a glass of wine

Whole lives untranspired
Waking dreams, night sweats
Terrified of what belies
If they never happen
Hobart Penitentiary Clock Tower c1834

Trying

Do not try,
Pipes chorus -
To compete,
It’s not a game,
Chides a waiter -
With the apple
Of her eye.
Devotion decades deep
While you are merely
A drop in her sea.
Constant, awash
A reed among kelp forest
Slowly disappearing
Taste of salt tears
Sweat of remembrance
Incomparable to the love
She plucked from tender
Young tree
View to Adventure Bay, Bruny Island Tasmania