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Beehive

A timesheet poem I wrote a while back (haven’t been writing them of late, think the last one was almost a year ago). Tried to make it sound a little Shakespeare like (add some culture to work … haha) and tried to keep it flowing fast. Not my best work, but just some fun. Enjoy!

Thou art elaborate as a bee hive,
Each busy deciphering their reason.
Burdened they can but only thrive;
Not concerned by the chilled season

The women buzz at fifty shades of grey
Whilst the directors fly in deep dales,
A union forged, overcoming any fray
And at the end they’ll down ales

But the Shag errs from course,
The honey weighs heavy on his mind.
Others stray not from the Queen’s force
Enduring the journey together entwined

The life of thou reflects a social bee
Satisfying the Queen, her will with glee

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Posted by on Friday 23rd August, 2013 in Poetry

 

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My Country by Dorothea Mackellar

By far my favourite Australian poem … the second verse is particularly famous here, however I think the whole poem is just so beautiful and strong. Not to mention she wrote this when she was only 19. Enjoy!

The love of field and coppice,
Of green and shaded lanes.
Of ordered woods and gardens
Is running in your veins,
Strong love of grey-blue distance
Brown streams and soft dim skies
I know but cannot share it,
My love is otherwise.

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror –
The wide brown land for me!

A stark white ring-barked forest
All tragic to the moon,
The sapphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon.
Green tangle of the brushes,
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops
And ferns the warm dark soil.

Core of my heart, my country!
Her pitiless blue sky,
When sick at heart, around us,
We see the cattle die –
But then the grey clouds gather,
And we can bless again
The drumming of an army,
The steady, soaking rain.

Core of my heart, my country!
Land of the Rainbow Gold,
For flood and fire and famine,
She pays us back threefold –
Over the thirsty paddocks,
Watch, after many days,
The filmy veil of greenness
That thickens as we gaze.

An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land –
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand –
Though earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown country
My homing thoughts will fly.

 
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Posted by on Monday 19th August, 2013 in Australiana, Poetry

 

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Crossroad

I need a little help with this poem. I am unsure where to go next with this, or perhaps what should come before this stanza. Any ideas or suggestions most appreciated, and don’t forget to vote after reading the poem.

I circle the block, for the hundredth time
I am idle at traffic lights in the wake of red
The distractions exhaust my pain
In the rear mirror of her shadow
I stand, unexpectedly at a crossroad.

 

 

 
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Posted by on Tuesday 13th August, 2013 in Poetry

 

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A Wave

Dedicated to JP

Walking down a wide quiet street
with the sun high above,
a man approaches from a distance,
he is waving frantically.

He reminds me of poor Timmy
back at school trying to hang on till the bell
but he had to go, so he raised his hand
waving urgently to the teacher, too late.

This man is an adult though,
yet the expression is pure.
Is he not all there I muse
or just joyful to be free?

Ahead another man’s body is silent
as the waver approaches him,
fearful that this man was waving,
waving at me? Panic groans.

The waver breaks into laughter,
contagious, it is air borne,
ahead the man’s shoulders join
to the waver’s delight.

The two pass on their paths
and a brief word escapes their lips.
The waver smiles unabridged,
the other man’s stride dances

Do they know each other,
was that a charade,
or two strangers now friends
from an unbridled wave …

 
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Posted by on Thursday 8th August, 2013 in Poetry

 

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Missing in Action

Sorry for the lack of any posts in the last few months … sometimes life just gets in the way. Hopefully now I am a little more organised and get some more posts out there for you to read. I have about 10 poems in a draft form that hopefully will be completed very soon (some sooner than others).

I am also still working on the next part to Chapter Two in my story. I have written a first draft up to about chapter six, but I wasn’t sure (and originally unhappy) about how to write chapter two and this is why I have been held up. After I manage to extract this part of chapter two I am hopefully to release at least a new part each week.

Again sorry for the lack of posts of late, I will start to aim to publish at least one poem and one part of my book each week from now on.

 
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Posted by on Monday 1st July, 2013 in Comments

 

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Pack Alpha

Fangs elongated as he drinks
In the air with flared nostrils,
The scent of prey arouses:
His blood … his hunger … his lust

He saunters in her direction,
All around her dulls, she beckons
The air moves to let him stalk:
Her blood … her hunger … her lust

A wolf hunting under the moon
Stars don’t cast her reflection,
Too pure to understand the danger:
His blood … his hunger … his lust

Her attar teases his claws held.
With juvenile naivety he strikes,
Too late he sees truth in a look:
Her blood … her hunger … her lust

She mocks his blind attack,
The wolf recoils within his skin.
Too strong for him, she isn’t prey:
His blood … her hunger … their lust

 
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Posted by on Wednesday 22nd May, 2013 in Poetry

 

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The Shape of Sadness

The room is her temple’s abyss,
Darkness swallows the light’s edge
As she kneels to her melancholy,
Alone; except for afflicted thoughts.

A dagger before her eyes
Piercing the fog’s ashen veil,
No hand to hold it steady,
Yet crimson tears stain the blade

Dull … pain … aches … for her
To open eyes blind to see;
The path ahead is hers
To forge … to wield … her will

Each beat of the heart,
Every breath held not taken,
All hope abandoned; Sadness
Cuts a timid and lonely shape

 
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Posted by on Tuesday 21st May, 2013 in Poetry, Stories of Sadness

 

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