Overcome by Anthomania,
Springtime vibes on the warming breeze.
Early buds will soon bloom,
Wintertime comes to the Southern lands.
Poetry | Stories | Photography
Overcome by Anthomania,
Springtime vibes on the warming breeze.
Early buds will soon bloom,
Wintertime comes to the Southern lands.

You walked in the busy city, stopping to wait for the right light.
A quick snap below of what’s above, reminds you of Winter’s day.
Looking back, you stare at the image of Melbourne town.
There is a silent way about the grey; a stillness in the sky.
Perhaps you will again see Melbourne moving on a winter’s day.
Howling from the forest,
Wintertime is on the way.
A sea breeze turns wild,
Clouds move overhead.
Woods once silent, now
move in urgency to the sky.
Many crows do fly across the sky,
To show us a Portent of death.
I often let the words speak for themselves. However, I do enjoy a bit of amateur photography now and then.
I found Squares, which gives me the ability to share some of my random photos.
The theme this month is Up.
I took two photos on two different days, standing at the corner of Collins Street and King Street in Melbourne, Victoria, Australia. The year was 2019, and this was the last time I saw a Winter in Melbourne due to Covid-19.
I look forward to seeing another Winter in Melbourne in 2021.


Feeling the forest closing in,
Snowflakes fall on my face.
A wolf calls to say, “Let’s play”;
A bear hidden snores loudly.
Feeling the pull of energy,
being pulled towards her.
The pull of the Winter moon,
her energy overpowers my will;
moving towards a new chapter.

Standing still
feeling the mist
as the forest breathes
in the coming of winter
The black heart of summer moves in the sun,
the light soul of winter moves in the snow;
white hands of lily move in the rain,
dark feet of onyx move in the mist.
Black and white,
light and dark;
all the same
under the sky.
Clear cool winter sky
revealing hidden colours
only for my eyes
I don’t dream of Summer,
I only dream of our Winter.
The wild wind of Winter moves,
The Wild moves into our bones.
You laugh at the trees and snow,
I laugh at the playful snow on my skin.
In this eccentric Winter, we laugh on,
Forgetting Spring will come too soon.
loose snow falls
from the evergreen pine
upon your face