Reasons to be Cheerful

Some of this

Less of that

Fear of few

Love of lots

Plenty to give

Thankful to receive 

Words that build

Ears that listen

Hearts that sing

Those who laugh

Hands that help

Spirits that soar

Colours that matter

Differences that don’t

Friendship to warm

Music to soothe

Places to see

Those I’ve seen

Paths that meander

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Murmur 3

On any still night

When the clouds are low

And the city lights,

Create an orange glow.

 

You may perceive it.

Maybe not in the first instant

But with time you might

Come to notice the remnant.

 

It’s the noise that’s left behind

As society goes about its business –

The machineries daily grind.

It’s an eerie, almost silence.

 

You’ll know it from the time

You’re sweetheart touched your hand

In that crowded five and dime

The murmur, the only sound that remained.

 

And as you stand at sea’s shore

On this calm, steamy evening

You can hear it once more,

The hum of lives out there – living.

North Wind (haiku)

northerlies hasten
life and death in equal share
no pref’rence offered

Piccaninni Dawn

 

In the distance a magpie calls,

Tentatively.

I slide out of bed and slip on a tracksuit,

Sleepily.

The dog uncurls from her bed,

Expectantly.

It’s walk time –

A cup of tea for me,

Stretching and sniffing for the dog.

The darkness cloaks our departure.

Possums take to the power-lines as we pass.

The morning is ours right now.

I can hear the sea.

Gentle waves sigh against

The coarse sand beach.

Curlews cry out from the rocky point,

Heralding the arrival

Of a new born day.

Piccaninni dawn –

Nothing showy;

Pastels of orange, yellow and blue.

Soft light that glows

And lightly tints the bay –

This is why I’m here.

Winter Sunrise

Winter sunrise beckons –

To the early fisherman, waiting

To the dog and the walker, whistling

To the cyclist, breathing hard

To the athletic couple, running

To the lover, returning

To the pelican, preparing

To the poet, watching.

Sea Mist

sea mist shrouds july

gentle waves caress the beach

landmarks deceive me

The Beach (HMQS Gayundah wreck)

From the sea her beauty is apparent.

From the shore she takes your breath.

Her sweet curve beckons.

Her crystal waters invite.

A ship has cast itself

Into her eternal embrace –

Simply for the joy of growing old

In her golden sands.

Protecting her from storms,

And providing shelter and comfort

To the Pied Oyster Catcher

And the Eastern Curlew,

As they forage the beach…

My beach – Gayundah.