It’s Not Spring Here – 26/2/18

False spring takes heat from

The sky and buries it in

The depth of the earth






Kitchen – 5/11/17

In the heart of the house,
Hand on the towel, drying the casserole dish
When the house takes a deep breath
Pushing in spring air,
And drawing my eyes to the open door and the white butterflies kissing the dying grass.

I don’t know the why (dVerse prompt) – 17/9/17

I remember the joy when I first realised a poem does not need to rhyme. I wrote a not-bothered poem, unrhyming, looked at it and thought, this isn’t poetry. Then I looked again and thought, who cares? I like to write my poems in huge blocks and chunks of text, then I come back later and cut it up into the rhythms my tongue tasted as I spewed it from  my mind to the blank white. If I write fast enough I can get this feeling out, amazing how my thoughts come forth in settled patterns, forcing a poem. Later I will read it back and think, how on earth did that genius, that tiny bit there, come out of me? I will then cut ruthlessly to remove the non-genius. I do not remove it all because to do so would often leave me with one word here and one there looking completely unrelated on the page. I often write in Drought. Dust colours my nostalgia, my water is my utopia, my earth and joyous home is crackling grass and the flying crows that whiten bones. I write in feelings and also gel pens or black pens or computer screens. I try to make my feelings clearer by obscuring them in metaphor, in the hopes that someone will pick my wild random phrase and say, you know, I have felt that too. I want my words to give me wings. I will write an impossibility and after when I read it through, I will say, you know, I believe that this could be real and look, look at how that word there is fluttering, it wants to be true as well.


Summer takes a sigh

Lungs collapsing in the sun

Birds fly on up-draft



A prompt from dVerse, to explore why we write in the style we do, with a traditional haiku at the end. I’m not sure my response made my why any clearer, but I didn’t realise before I thought about it that this is definitely my style, at least at the moment. I haven’t put in any line breaks as I usually do so you can see it as it is raw. I still and probably always will be growing in the way I write, so this is a snapshot of me now, I guess.




Farewell Dust – 14/9/17

The knocking intensifies, urgent and soft.

Rain is a stranger,

drumming the door.

But my fingers that reach for the door knob

Are covered in soft-silk

dust, and dry gum leaves.

And I know you will wash them away.

Your green coat don’t fit

The bones of the valley,

Grey wash watercolour soddens the sky.

I want long summers

To hang washing in,

Give me my sunshine, give me my dry.

There’s never a break

In the clouds or lush grass,

Dark dreamy paddocks sigh in your reign

Catching my pockets,

Drenching my sheep,

And filling the beds when the river’s asleep.

I know I craved water,

I didn’t know what it meant,

Forfeit gold living, put your feet in the mud.

But glance t’wards

the mottled dark storm

Life symphony, the gentle drum joins the band,

Child’s play-dust gone,

It’s a kind bargain

Rain is a gentle monarch over the land


Lovely rain prompt from dVerse, mine is late! Hope you enjoy 😊

Poetry, Prompts

dVerse prompt, shoes – 30/8/17

Summer shoes to be

Discarded, corner tossed

Feet free in the grass

– zu

A prompt from dVerse about shoes, I’ve always enjoyed hot weather when I can kick them off! This is a haiku, 5-7-5 syllables. I always have trouble with syllables because when in primary school they taught us to count them by the amount of times our chin went down when we said the word, well with my Australian accent words tend to become a little compressed! Does anyone have a better method of counting syllables? 


“Someone’s Wishes” Poetry Prompt – 28/8/17

First day on the job,
Walking into the wish factory,
Caught my dream job,
Working on the purple planet,
Into the factory floor full with violets
and puffed clouds from the ventilation.
I’ve never made a wish come true,
Been on the collection team a times or two,
Scooping out the wishes from the atmosphere,
Microphones tuned to catch the words, ‘I wish’,
Endless flying, a little tiring after a time,
Especially on foggy days.
My resume was filled with sky racing and
Apple seeding.
How could I have got this job?
Ma said I’d never been made to corral the desks and papers,
But I hankered after the smooth and sweet
While fixing my engines and chopping the sky.
So today when I wander in
It’s with starry eyes.
Joe claps me on the shoulder,
Joe’s my new boss.
Says he’s got a desk just for me,
And walks me through the rounded floor to a corner,
Makes me sit.
Very simple,
Take the paper,
Read it,
And make a wish come true.
He claps me again and strides out.
Well. I grin. Looks like I’m a desk sitter after all!
First paper,
Surprised I glance again,
Looks like it’s from the boss’s son,
Joe’s kid.
He’s written from a smaller planet to the left,
I think it’s orange,
And quite small.
Written in a scribble, the boys were in a hurry that day,
Says, wish I were a wish collector.



Written from a prompt by Teresa Creations Blog.

Previous poems, “Radiant Sunrise” two word prompt – 24/8/17


“Radiant Sunrise” two word prompt – 24/8/17

It’s a pig,
Slops and all.
Gold shines his back,
Lace clouds fall.
A pen, some straw,
A place called home.
To greet the sun,
To feel less alone.
Morning caught in a dewy web,
Moon faced sun.
Friends who are here,
Are better than none.
The pig and all,
The same under their skins.
Feeling joyous and well spoken,
Radiant, he grins.



Prompt from Teresa Creations Blog.