Category: Twitter Poems

Is there no end
to the packing
and sorting,
the throwing away,
the keeping
and the decision
over who will be
the judge,
the jury
the final voice?

And seasons come
and seasons go;
some days
the work is done,
on other days
the work is untouched,
but in the end
our labours
and our heart’s intent
find their reward
in the harvest

We deal with what is,
not what could be
or what should be,
for in the moment
we are where
we need to be.

There the stars shine
like gold buttons
on the greatcoat of night
and the morepork’s call
echoes in the lonely heart
and the dawn stretches
as far as the eye can see.

I am looking forward to
spending some time there
at the foot of the high hill,
on the edge of the forest,
soothed by the sweet lullaby
of the tumbling river.

We waited midst the bursting waves
of the near full tide,
they shattered like thunder
on the rising sands of the beach
and sent a hurricane of white
diamonds this way and that,
each one illuminated
in the fire of the rising moon.

We waited beneath the stars
for the moon to lift itself
from the edge of the ocean,
from the dark line of the horizon;
it came, a ball of fire
striking at the heart
of love.

There is an unease stirring
in the waters of the deep, green sea,
uncomfortable with its loss,
uncomfortable with the riderless
wild, white horses pounding across
its unfenced pastures, unsettled
in the looming grey dusk.

The chill of the south wind
ripping across Foveaux Strait
peeled back our flesh
and cut us to the bone
and carved great chunks of
sadness from our hearts
as we loaded his casket
into the hearse.

Just rest in my arms
and pick your way
among the stars,
hold on to the unbroken things,
sail your heart
on the galaxy of dreams
and sleep in the light
of yellow moon beams.