A child's face bent over the dusk...
Categories: Fact
Characters: None
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Table of Contents
Completed: Yes Word count: 79 Read Count: 99
A child's face bent over the dusk...
The mystery hill you can see from most parts of Auckland is, of course, Rangitoto island, the mid-harbour volcanic cone.
Waiting to return, waiting and sailing in the longing shadows.
A poem on a particular gambler.
Two magpie and bird related pieces I recently added to a series of children's poems I started writing about 2 years ago.
How do you measure it, love, by what length or breadth?
Dedicated to a friend who seems to stand on his own mountain and I on mine; we waive to each other at times and pick up each other's words on the wind or page.Mother, in your later years...
Falling in love: the fear, the exhilaration and the tenderness...
This poem is about change, very metaphorical in places.
That shore, no matter how may oceans behind, i have never left.
What my grandfather said of the war, the very little, but hard & to the point
Memory of her, a poem, a poet true/untrue, the memory's true.
Don't be too secure inside your harness
unequality
Trying to drink down life's sorrow you open the floodgates to the sound of a lawnmower.
Even these things wait their turn to ascend...
death, courage, beauty
At the window, sitting in the dark of your eyes, stuck on wheels you can hardly turn anymore.
What we saw was a real ship, not all that steel and diesel nonsense.
An Atheist visits a Medieval Gothic Cathedral.The lengths of an autumn in dry leaf, shadowed hill, the cold of apples.