Late bloomer

Galaxies in their multitude
Where is she?
A simple spectrum stripe
Across her beating hearts

Taking lifetimes and bodies
Rapidly evolving
Lives unfolding
Hapless helpless followers

Falling in love
With her magnanimity
All knowing and seeing
Never saying

Beautiful mystery
Heartache of lost worlds
Secrets to keep
For eternity

Loving her draws many in
Along for the ride
Seeking a dangerous high
Do it all by lunchtime

Saving planets and universes
Hope and souls
Beating time
Mark of divine

She is only and one
Do you know who?

A tangle of tentacles

Dip in to the black ink
Flip feet freely in the wash
Slip my whole heart heavily
Trip submerge willingly

Into swollen tide hiding places
Slippery fingers tease faces
Wide eyed glassy gazes
Wonderment as smile erases

Never you mind, never with me
A tickle teases out a single tentacle
She breathes into me
Avoiding tangle in community

Inner spacial, inter species
Perfect love is never easy
Daily ritual flirts with danger
Obsession dances take your cue

Never see another in a lifetime
What's hurting yours is hurting mine
Taking care is taking its toll
Take a bow the stage is yours

Tiny feet patter away on waves
Never know to where
Loving a mother life giver
Attach, match, hatch...

Love is all and all is love
To find such beauty takes us all
our waking thoughts rise above
A breath we cannot hold







Goulds cure

Of all the finest examples 
Giving light and life
With each seeming to have
Its own personality and mood
The finest outline
Is drawn from that feeling
Of wonderment
The fall of the brush
Speaking more in silence
Than a thousand words spoken
With love
William Buelow Gould, Still life a bunch of flowers, 1838. Artists of Tasmania. Allport Museum and Art Gallery

Hear me

What is it like
To love another
like you?

To let their name
linger longer on lips
cited and recited
Incantation

To close your eyes
see lightness pervade
cut through blackness
Meditation

To draw the lines
around your face
as smiles evade
a knowing gaze
Repartee

To lie in wait
until the day
catch a ride
see a face
Resignation

To know the same
happens every day
some place and time
yet never again
like them.

To know what is meant
when they say
love is love is love...
E-MIGRATION or A FLIGHT OF FAIR GAME by Alfred Ducote, 1832. Hand coloured lithograph Allport Library and Museum of Fine Arts.