Poetry | Stories | Photography
Dancing fingers move above the places
where
energy meets the many sounds of the sea.
Touching the places that make the sea
come alive through vibrations and sounds.
Dancing fingers make the sea rush
into the piano as the shore shifts.
Slowly, the sounds of the winter sea shift
the room and the forest begins to sound.
Dancing fingers move the sea to the shore,
to show us the forest, the snow, the silence.
Compose the colours
of a winter symphony
to end a grey day
a winter grey day
knit the season into a
cloud-covered jumper
Walking through a wintry green garden,
listening to the raindrops fall on the plants, trees, and the house.
What a delightful dream this green garden,
beckoning me never to leave the moss, grass, and the quiet life.
Work sounds jolt me back to a busy Monday,
and somehow, I know the corporate world is not my calling.
Waking to the smell of herbs and nature clicks,
and I know that I can never return to my previous mindset.
With my work cup, my bag, and a picture on the wall,
I take the back way out of the office and travel towards home.
by the willow tree,
meeting me there at midnight
spin a spell and
tell me what you see behind the veil
conjure bewitchment
and pull me asunder, to never return
from your love and sorrow
The receding stars
Born into the world fresh, whole
Slowly fragmenting
The grey day hangs. Sometimes there is wind, sometimes rain, and sometimes there is stillness.
The rain and the wind lash the house.
We sit inside, loving the comfort of home, composing dreams to the sound of the wind and the rain.
We are safe in the comfort of our home.
A sea of red and bright lights
bumper to bumper
Trying to get home from work
The bus rocks you to slumber
constructing worlds
A fantasy world full of nature
You bramble on a wild journey
animals talk to you
A dragon carries your luggage
A horn ruins your fantasy
From the window stands a tree with bare branches
a Host preen and sing under the grey of the Autumn day
The Sparrows dart and dance in the cold May wind
I watch them going about their busy lives and their day
They hear the window slide; spooked, they fly away
I longed to listen and to hear the stories about their day
From outside, the tree watches me standing alone
another human taking time to watch nature in their day
The moon hides away
we pass fluorescent Lichen
covering the trees
C & K 