Up on the hill
She sits
Still
Up on the hill
She is tranquil
Drenched
In the ink
Of
Quills

He's paid his
Dues
He's paid his
Marks
Every duty followed through
Was begun by
Said
Spark

I knew
A
Lad

His hair
Was
Dark yellow

All I've ever wanted in this life
Was
To be left alone
And to be left
Mellow

She turned her
Head
She smiled
Her
Australian
Smile

Everyone's got a way
Around the world:

What's yours?

Poetry
Poetry
Poetry

Syntax woven
By the
Personal

Stuff
Dense,
But,
Not so,
Dense.

We,
Are the play,
On,
Words.

I,
Am dancing with, beneath, through the wind;

Come find me;

Come see me;

Come see, that I

Am

Real.