History

 

History

when a word can recount the full story

when a tear can flood the whole world

and a sigh, a breath fierce storms provoke

yet our flag of life remains furled;

when a dream disappears in an inkling

when a sliver seems mountain size

and the flame of your candle flickers

free in the instant before it dies;

when a glance can engender a pageant

when silence can sweetly serenade

and moonlight at dawn in dappled skies

is the catalyst for our love’s crusade;

where an echo fades before its return

where two parallel lines intersect

we dwell in the rhyme of my poetry

through that mirror, darkly, we reflect.

 

 

The Doorway

 

The Doorway

Faint breezes puff impotently at the heavy metal security gate,

but only rattle the loosely latched wooden door behind;

two currawongs, couched high in council's potted jacarandas,

warble their musical morning alarums in perfect counterpoint,

their echoes eerily climb the graffiti clad concrete stairwell

cross sensory paths with aromatic coffee and crunchy bacon

sliding stealthily under the door, wafting out to the unlit mall;

lazily, dawn drags the dank cloak of darkness from the doorway.

Despair, in various guises, played, worked and slept here last night;

uniformed hope and charity did their very best to coddle fallen kin,

but even now, as dawn's first light floods the cold concrete floor,

one shivering legacy of the dark side's frantic trade, curls up

foetus tight in unconscious mental bondage amongst the bed mates

of her addiction, discarded syringes, heroin caps, tablets and the

crumpled condoms, her credit card in the alternate economic society;

poignantly, her life now poised on the point of a state issued needle.

 

 

Bush Anthem For Australia

 

Bush Anthem For Australia

(As read nightly for the last eighty years at the Mount’n Lagoon pub!)

 

With just a snatch of light remaining from a perfect autumn day

observe the cloudless sky continuum of red through ginger, then dark grey

which last lights the lofty eucalypt with its cockatoo congregation

reflective sun turns white to red faking a tree born conflagration.

Its a special time and to welcome night catch nature’s form of praise

as a poignant Aussie chorus forms to farewell the best of days;

there’s poor cohesion, lack of harmony, voices laced with some discord

but prize your days in this unique land and accept this aural reward.

To some its just dusk, crickets chirping and cockies ceaseless squawking

but drink it in, its the spirit of our great land that’s really talking

and it only takes a second for the cloak of darkness to descend

and bring the resonance of Australia abruptly to an end.

Keep these idyllic scenes eternal, help our land to long survive

love our people, love our fauna and learn to keep the bush alive,

believe in the spirit of nature, keep faith with natural ways

entrust your god with the power to deliver such perfect days.