Gerrit Photography
a stone face
your blind soul is
fixed
behind the wall
of glass level
and
dressed in
the webbed music
locked
in your system
my sighs
outside
spin
kick
bust
and trump
the reflection mess
yet for you
inside
I am less than
a mirage
a reflection
my visit
does not exist
Linking to:
Magpie Tales #287
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The Sunday Whirl
Aline Smithson
all the mystique and
glamour
and flashy photos
spewed like sticky honey from
the relentless
Hollywood
marketing
machine
cannot compete with
the passing of time
tastes and
stardom
move on
just like your fancy doll's house for
your fancy doll
abandoned
buckling to the ravages of
loveless
dust
while I stand
and I see
and I conquer
and this
ordinary
smug
doll
moves on
Linking to:
Magpie Tales #285
I remember
the day we decided to go far south
far
far
south
south of the mainland
south
to
an island
we found a piece of
valley paradise
by a river
hugged
by mountains
our island legs were not too steady
do you remember one icy morning
when your boots leaked
with ice
and in the near distance
you saw
your first tiger snake?
that ice saved you from moving too fast
and
do you remember
when we decided to have some music in the gardens
we bought a large tent with a fancy fringe
hired a quintet
and sent out invitations
to everyone
any one
and hardly a soul replied
then
the night before
the day of island days
it rained
rain turned into
a wild early morning thunderstorm
sleep eluded us
but
next morning
the sun glowed
the garden glowed
and colourful cars
a tribe of
colourful cars
carefully meandered up
our muddy driveway
our home was humble
with a home-made feel
but our views were grand
our lake
fringed with magical spruce
danced with Merlin
our platypus
Dry's Bluff
rang with sunset colour
our mini rainforest
spun Celtic questions
do you remember
why it was
we wandered
away?
Linking to:
Magpie Tales #284
