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...

I lie here every night,

wishing , i could hold you tight;

as your beauty echoes softly through my mind,

as my heart,you gently entwine.



I feel your presence by my side,

as you gently unfold in my mind;

as we make love,i feel your soft skin,

as it caresses mine.



It was almost like a song,

the orchestra gently playing ;

as our bodies dance along,

then i awake, with tears in my eyes.



When i roll over to hold you,

i realize,it was just a dream;

as you,

lay gentle on my mind...

,

Poetry
to me
is taking
my pain
and making
it sing.

Do they get neatly tucked away in pockets, where it will never be retrieved,
or things left unsaid only to dissipate in our minds.
Where do the years go?
Are they memories stored of children playing and watching them grow or of all the love that has crossed our paths?
Is it music and dancing , when time seems to stand still?

We will probably never know..

This winter wonderland puts me in a trance;
Imagining a life not yet lived; a little glance.
But slumber keeps calling my name.
Snowflakes kiss the air, and glitters all around.
But slumber keeps calling my name.
Seeking the comfort of all things warm; you will find me under blankets and with coffee for days...
But slumber keeps calling my name.
And soaking in the moments I have with those, whom I adore,
I look to brush time away once more,
But slumber keeps calling my name.
As the evening creeps in,
I am pensive as the bustle slows down, and the silence inhabits the cold,
Slumber inhabits me too...