I can measure, to a reasonable degree, the work I have done
but not the extent of my unkindness and inconsiderateness.

the candle flame flickers
as the zephyr breeze blows
across our sunwarmed skin

we hold hands like teenagers of old
and you nuzzle gently at my shoulder

the stars brighten, as the sky darkens
from chambray to indigo
and the moon shones with mottled ivory glow

the frogs sing love songs and the lonely boobook calls
the night settles in as we make our way indoors
the candle flame splutters dies and leaves behind
a trail of smoke, taken away by the zephyr breeze
and the boobook calls again....mopoke....mopoke

i wait standing at the old metal gate
my soul is tired, it has been a long Monday
then i see you run toward me
that action alone makes
my heart bloosom like
a sunflower,
all bright seeds, turning
toward you,  the sunshine
of my world

When I sleep
a wind blows
over strange lands
I don't know
and I feel like a lamp
a stranger is holding up
looking for a way
through a dark field
I will walk through.