The Tree

The Tree

I stand upon the grass

Barefoot and rooted

Feeling the shape

Of the land as I

A young sapling, freshly planted

Establish a presence

Before me stretch the years

An image caught on camera

A time lapse montage

As dusk bleeds to dawn and the sun

And moon arch and chase across the sky

Rain, wind and clouds

White, dark, wispy, pendulous

Until the rolling seasons

Collapse into a seared image

Branded in the bark and bent

From the wind

My place secure

Another Poem

Twin Blonde Tornadoes

Laughter runs down hills

And out windows

Through golden sun mellow touched

With green landscapes

Blurring memory and fantasy

Yet filling always a happy

Place as settling bones sigh

With ease and reflected happiness

Until, inevitably

Loud calls of anger

Split asunder peaceful contentment

And called upon again to right injustice

That neither giving quarter so upright

In righteous indignation that

Seemingly born from that stone

One must sigh again

With exasperated tiredness

Musings and Poetry

It’s been a while since I have been tempted to write any form of poetry. I am not a big one for rhyme and when I have attempted poetry like that it has always had a forced unnatural feel. I more prefer to write a more deconstructed poem. Anyway was struck by the image tonight, so here is one. It’s in its first form, and I will come back to it later after I have let I mull for a while.  

Rural Idyll

Driving down into the valley

An image of The Darling Buds of May

And England comes to the fore

Were it not for cabbage tree and fantails

The native lined road passing window

As I dive down to the bridge

Then the unformed mud drive

Forged under heavy tyres

Laden with house as tradesmen

Toiled through late rain and hot sun

To form this retreat

The birds across this dell

Call clear on the air

Across the tall poplars that guard this hearth

Thistles flowers floating softly

White clouds doom laden with promise

Dogs and children both unbound

Dip toes in creek in search

Of cool relief from hot day

And hidden crawlies

With peaceful purpose roots are thrust

Seeking water amongst clay