Sea Sunrise

I’m standing on the shore
toeing seashells and sand.

Sipping sweet milky tea
and remembering
Shells,
Mum,
Things.

Stormy skies seem so far away,
while the salty surface is calm.

Soft sounds of winter speak through
shy wavelets as they move closer.

Something cute breaks the surface,
many little bubbles begin to show.

Soft hues of grey, pink and blue,
they come from the dark cold.

Sunrise presents a pastel watercolour,
Showing us another day to live a life.

Memories

Photo – Thensure Yang

Memories move through my mind,
reminding me of what we used to do.

Sunday times at Lake Tinaroo,
when a paddleboat fit more than two.

A Summer’s day at Yorkeys Knob,
swimming in nets and dreaming away.

Looking at this view I remember
all the remade childhood good times.

Yet the bad dreams move away,
just like the fade of this soft short day.

Dancing on the edge

Daydreams take hold playing a reel of
what could have been of my little life.

Couching and cooking won’t help my
waistline, nor stop the movies playing.

Succumbing to the reel of many fantasies,
I sit for hours unaware of the time of day.

Daydreams play themselves until the end,
yet I remain the same person I once was.

Idle, I didn’t realise holding on to a dream
could mean losing the one I love the most.

Daydreams

Daydreams take hold playing a reel of
what could have been of my little life.

Couching and cooking won’t help my
waistline, nor stop the movies playing.

Succumbing to the reel of many fantasies,
I sit for hours unaware of the time of day.

Daydreams play themselves until the end,
yet I remain the same person I once was.

Idle, I didn’t realise holding on to a dream
could mean losing the one I love the most.

Earth Sounds

The sounds are muffled by sight,
so we close our eyes and listen.

The Earth sounds vibrate unending,
as the location dictates the intensity.

With eyes closed the wind whistles
through the hills of green to grey.

A chorus of cows moo and grumble,
then the birds chime and chirp around.

With eyes closed the ground disappears
as the seashore comes closer, closer.

Sea waves move and splash, as the cold
winds of the North take us far away.

Held for so long, we stay there for a time
not realising the hills have darkened and
night has come to our Winter wonderland.

Yet the sea still calls us back from the hills;
always calling us back to her cold shores.