I walked the woods today,
strolled under the quite shade of
towering old growth evergreens,
their scent upon me conveyed
simple peaceful solitude, there were
birds and squirrels unconcerned
with me, busy with their own pursuits.
A young Deer browsing raised his
antlered head for a quick peek, then went
right back to eating. For a moment I felt as
if I was the only human in the world and
that thought did not disturb me in the least.

I grew up by the beach
Air salt and sunscreen
Houses squat on dunes
Calendar in scratchy sand
All yellows and brindle

Winter scored in cactus ketch-groans
Summer seagull soundtrack
Snake sunbakes
Kikuyu crunches

Now home is hillside
Rosemary jasmine breeze
Every pane a picture
Year parades in colour
All purples and greens

Spring exits in lily lavender
Soft sepia summer
Auburn autumn
Jade July

And in unison agave flower
Invisible itinerary
Monocarpic masts
Noble nativity

Curtains to overture
In purples and greens

He told me there is a difference
Between perception and perspective
One can help you understand
One can make you be difficult to understand
There is a reasonable difference
How to conquer mind?

Jam-packed case for just-in-cases
       No way of knowing when you gotta jam

Loafers with no-loafing laces
No-track tracksuit for no traces
Boxing boxers, bracing braces
       Wool-coated trench coat for time on-the-lamb

Racewear dress for dressy races
Full-face mask to hide full faces
High-pace sneakers, sneaky paces
       Bent scrambling helmet if hellbent to scram

Sleeveless tanks for arm-y bases
High-jump jumpers for high places
No-halt halter, hasty chases
       Hoodwinker hoodie obscures who I am

Jam-packed case for just-in-cases
       No way of knowing when you gotta jam

I'm not an 'ingénue' anymore - that’s been vitiated.
I'm not innocent, pure, naive or vulnerable -
which are technically, 'ingénue' requirements
(I don’t make the rules).

That being said, if no one has an objection,
in terms of narrative trajectory, I'd like to be
considered a 'fémme fatale' until further notice.
.
.
Songs for this:
HEATED by Beyoncé
Hysterical Us by Magdalena Bay

11am 08.12

Eliot,

I thought you had thrown in the towel 2 weeks ago.
HP, suddenly, went off the air!

Communicated with a few of my HP mates, Nat n' Stevo, Vix in England.....enquiring whether they thought this was so?

The universal horror that HP may be no more hit us all like a brick wall.

Truely amazing what an global impact your little poetry site weilds. What an impact you, directly, weild to a whole spectrum of worldwide creative people.

I'm sure, initially, you had no conception how this idea would mushroom. How much importance we would all place on your continuity to provide.

One day you will die....and with your departing soul shall fly the lamentation of a host of worldwide poetic tragedy, for we will all have lost something of immense and personal value.

My thanks to you for your inspired creation and your willingness, enthusiasm and sacrifice to maintain it.

We would be quite lost and distraught in a world without your unique and wonderful brainchild.

I felt it was important to let you know this.

Respectfully Sire.

M@Foxglo­ve.Taranaki.NZ
17 August 2024