hop to it; he says romping bounding and bouncing springing into the water gambolling from grass a frolic – your frisky when dancing and prancing others have left – cavorting – we’re last when others fail to do what can be done making nothing of something and neglecting the one playing and leaping and splashing … Continue reading gambolling
Category: Musings & Personal
You left
I'm lost - you left me - why did you pass me by I need your leadership your love - your sense that yes, it's worth a try Like a tree - standing taller you lift my sense of being why did you go I need you so you are my fallen beam A captain … Continue reading You left
Gratitude
Gratitude
To the sea
I stand above the solemn fieldwhere strangers come to seewhatever shall be wishing forin news endowed to thee I walk beside the strangest beachwhere friends of all kinds walkand then I dance the dance, so dearbut cannot talk the talk But ever shall we wonderwhatever could have beenif only I had held your handif only I had … Continue reading To the sea
Ne’er to go
The wind shakes – the ground breaks – your eyes wake and blink a joyful string your baggage light delight in spring and build create God’s guild love, laugh then chide – before I lose my alibi I reached the wall – a no-through road – yet in your arms I fell … Continue reading Ne’er to go
dead poets
The teacher, on the table, stood (to some a block), a plank of wood yet there stood a scribe with task to feed those beyond mere reasoning a calculated world we’re living in with textbook teachings of the past think, my friends – with majesty within you is the test to see dead … Continue reading dead poets
Finals football at the ‘G’
The 'G'. The ground that draws a crowd. This is the time of the year when everyone's attention turns to football - in Australia at least. In the US they broadcast the game we love and created at 3am when you are all in bed sound asleep but there are a few of you I … Continue reading Finals football at the ‘G’
Wild days
Oh but for those wild days Where the yardarm greets the sun I could abate the little bird And be the only one Who stands upon a portal And sings upon a rock Who nestles in the silent night Walking to the expanse of the dock Why jump; one thinks and ponders Why … Continue reading Wild days
More than myself
Can I create more than myself And if I can, must I? Is livelihood (like solitude) About to pass me by? At times we associate With a view - a sight to see A sense of fatal curfew – Of our own mortality Can I build a house to share – Must I share it … Continue reading More than myself
I think of thought…
What do I think of thought Or can I only feel A touch as tender as the breeze Or hard as bovine – ‘fore the veal What do I think of thought What does she think of me As hard to the touch as a scab Or soft and supple Alike thee Bereft of kindness … Continue reading I think of thought…