chasing his tail
to the point of dizziness
before running the race track
defined only in his head

streaking past in a doppler like blur
all scrabble and drift on the hallway turn
ending with a clumping thumping fullstop
into his bed/sack/bed....and then two blinks
and asleep,  limp like a ragdoll.

this is the nightly ritual

red moon rising
through flannel grey clouds
sea streaked with silver
pine trees black silhouettes

on the winow pane
brown moths paint
their lives away
and underlying it all
is the bass of a lonely treefrog
singing his heart's desire

small thing you are
yet you bring light
to the room

take age from old faces
bring back years and memories
left behind in days long past

small bundle of love
accepting all, no matter
the condition, full of joy
wonder and an insaitable curiousity

it is a balm to the tired,
to the saddened, to see
the simplicity of the exchange
love for love, even if only a brief fling

i thank you and yours, for this day
this hour of escape, you truly are
a blessing to behold....

small upon the wire
extruded with such effort
she swings with the wind
capturing her  stability against
the verdent green, once secure
she again  launches, like a spelunker
down into the darkness of the bush
only to reappear and leap from leaf to leaf

having constructed her main lines
the little architect, then proceeded
with absolutley no fanfare
but an audience of two,
enthralled by her
bravado and industry,
to fill out the infield of the  construct

before setting some fishing lines out
off her main points,  to sway in the breeze
she  then  strolled  back into her leafy boudoir,
one presumes to have a well earned nap,
before dinner

i sit in pew that years before
a convict sat chained to six others
brought to pray for a repentant heart
for the theft of bread or linen handkerchief
or perhaps something more sinister

my ample backside finds no comfort
on the narrow six inch board
but then i doubt that there were
many rotund convicts

the gloom in the old  churchis peaceful
and it is cool even though the temperature
soars outside the thck walls of sandstone
insulate not only from the heat,
also the sound of cars and other modernities

i expect the convicts, appreciated the church,
perhaps not for it's moralities and judgments
but as a respite from the harsh australian sun
a place to sit in quiet contemplation, whilst
the hymns from a homeland,  so far away
washed over them,  like water to a parched soul

as i sit  i feel for those convicts
and the quiet gloom comforts this soul...
i hum amazing grace and feel the connection...

monsoonal like heat
saps the strength
from my bones
one day into the new year
and i am weary beyond belief

sitting on the back step
a beer sweating itself
slippery in my hand
thinking sandwiches
and fruit salad
may well be our dinner
if i could be bothered
i don't think any one
is hungry anyway

the humidity creates
stickiness, so that flesh
melds together, i would
shower but it would
be my fourth today

and the beach is closed
due to a shark sighting
so i sit and ponder
as my beer warms
and the back
of my knees sweat
little puddles


thunder rumbles
and i hope that soon
a storm  will break
at least then we will
be able to sleep tonight

sheesh it is  hot.....

one more year
all but done
2 4 mins to spare

cold beers in hand
we sit on grass
and listen to folk band

our fingers touch
our hearts combine as
the years dwindles

the god boy dreams
with arms thrown wide
the lateness having beaten
his desire to see in the new

i think of those who
drifted of to places better
so far beyond our human touch
and to those we welcomed

the time counts down
as i stare at the sky
and wish for blessings and grace
but knowing that there
will be measures of sadness too

farewell to you 017
you were mostly good
and yes  i will
remember you kindly

the night becimes a carnival
the god boy lurches awake
and we stand hand in hand
as the new rushes to meet us