The bushland calls
Of my childhood dreams
Amongst the wild
My soul it, sings

The gentle breeze
light upon the skin
Sun upon my face
it welcomes me in

To the lands of summers
Though now long gone

Memories of the heats haze
With a white juvenile horse
Within a closed off field it lay
But young and free it was born

Birds flying high above
Shielding the rays of the sky
Perfectly clear a crystal bright blue
Not a single cloud in sight

Fields filled with nothing
But the dirt beneath our feet
Dull patches of green and yellow
Amongst cattle it feeds

A rooster it crows loud
The chooks begin to run
As bruce, a little staffy
Chases them about

Work shed full of tools
Covered by a rusted tin roof
Parked beside it old barrols
And a broken down ute

Stone walls of the house
To keep it cool inside
Spread across the cold floors
A reddish brown cowhide

Worn down leather couch
Out upon the front porch
An eski filled with stubbies
Where the boys had their "talks"

I feel the memories flooding back
This peacefulness, this sense of home
Hours pass by within seconds
Losing myself in the zone

My footsteps have long faded with time
As has my name once carved upon the gumtrees
The white stallion no longer grazes near by
Nor do the same cattle dwell in that field

Worn down by time and way of the land
Though I do intend to return again
To share the beauty of this place
Drawn back by the old fate

The day melts away like the snow
And I hear my parent calling my name
This place will forever be my second home
Because I know here, I'll never be alone

there are far too many holes in my shirt
he tells me, winking
he asks me if I'm cold
Would I like his jumper?
No, it's far too small.
He's far too happy
when he sits here
talking with me
and I am far too at ease.
He tells me about his dreams and plans
he talks about video games, how he stans
for skrillex, and all that dubstep stuff
and I can't even listen to it now.
He tells me his home life,
and how he was scared
He tells me about brothers
and possible sisters
He asks me how I am,
and I tell him the truth
he hangs an arm round my shoulder
he is far too comfortable with
comforting me.
But only when no one else is here
but see, now I'm embellishing
because I am not talking to him
I'm talking about him
to myself.
I'm not yet comfortable with comforting myself
and there are far too many holes in this shirt
and the story.

That smile of his
Held the beauty of the world
It was ever so charming and undeniably sweet
Entrancing all those who lay eyes upon it
There was a time where I once imaged
I could even sell my soul if need be
Whenever I saw his precious smile

Then I came to see
The true colours behind that smile
Twas like a poisonous flower
Blooming and vibrant
Luring in its fragile prey
Bewitching it within its spell
Intoxicated by the nectar
Unable to ever leave

Upon revealing the truth
That lay so evidently to preying eyes
He had already long abandoned me
leaving nothing but a memory of what was
And a forever lingering taste of honey
A sweetness upon my tongue

Though it is best to end this longing
This yearning for that man
Who's smile warmed my heart
halting my breath but for a moment
As if encased within a time
When my entire world was composed of
Only him and that devious smile













Yet my mind refuses to forget....


.