Sunset is a pretty thing, so bathed in mystery,
And yet it is the saddest thing, when drenched with memory,
Sodden sunset soak the tears,
That fall so endlessly,
Silent sunset take my hand, and bring me down with thee.

Find a Poet Not a poser, not a "it's just a hobby" poet. Find one who mumbles lines as they scramble for a pen at breakfast; who shakes their head randomly when their thoughts aren't rhyming properly;  who has notebooks stashed around the house that you must never touch.
2. Listen Savor the spoken words, for those are harder to express. Keep in mind that they can't be edited and re-written, and be forgiving when a mistake is made.
3. Read The body speaks as loudly as words on a page do. When their eyes are closed or focused on the ceiling and the fingers are tapping out syllables, recognize the unique process. Respect the need for quiet, because if you look closely, you can read the poem on their face before they write it on the page.
4. Write Write your story together. Grab hold of the pen and hang on as you move across the page of life. Sometimes you will dance across, others you will be dragged. You may have to cross out a word, or a line, or a page, but don't give up. Discouragement is a poet's biggest enemy, inarticulateness their biggest fear. So end each day with a semi-colon, because the story will never end the way you think it will, and there must be room for more. There is always room for more, more words, more laughter, more tears, more love,
When you love a poet.

Twinkling fireflies,
In the midnight heat,
Cool blades of grass,
As moisture hangs in the air.

Brittle branches claw the sky
Mourning the leaves,
fluttering beneath,
As a  hazy moon hovers above.

Periwinkle nights framed in gray,
Bedazzling crystals sprinkle down,
The world is silent,
As a thick blanket cleanses the ground.

A pastel palette,
Brings life to the trees,
The earth is reborn again,
As a gentle breeze magically blows.

catch me
in the
springtime
catch me
upon the
pearl white
moon
catch in
the
summer of 42
catch
the
fireflies of June

Take me down to the seashore;
It's days like these
When I just want to take a break,
Stop being who I should be for just a moment
And take a walk along the beach.

Take me down to the seashore,
Roll up our pants and saunter along the coastline,
The breakers crashing against our feet.
The seagulls calling our names.

Take me down to the seashore,
We'll sit in the silt until the sun goes down,
We'll watch the fireflies weave a tapestry amongst the stars,
And bury our toes in the sand,
Hand in hand.

Red Leaves moving by the river
Red leaves blowing in the breeze
Billowing in dusty circles
Settling down just how they please.
Red leaves falling from the maple
Falling down like scarlet rain
Painting Autumn tones for lovers
Making way for winter’s pain.
Feel the crispness of the evening
Watch the ***** frost gather there
Crunching through night’s frozen pasture
Billowed breath in morning’s air.
Running down the road in gum boots
Kicking up the piles of leaves
Making waterfalls of redness
Tensions flee and worries ease.
How I love the feel of Autumn
Stillness in the afternoon
Watching long clouds rich in grandeur
Golden sunset, crescent moon.
Winter comes with gales and thunder
Lightning flashes in the trees
Red leaves flailing in the windstorm
Graceful Autumn bows ....and flees.


Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
30th May 2008