Poems
Spirit Moments
The sheoak whispers and wails
A wattlebird warbles and whistles
The laughing bird claims the tree – my tree, my tree, mine
A possum tail flicks high in the red gum
Silver-green leaves dance in the morning light
Shivers of bark peel and curl and swirl down the trunk
The ancient tree claims the ground – my place, my place, mine
The shuffle and scuffle of leaves
Blown by a breeze that wanders aloft
Ignorant of the bossy grumble of creek that warns
Of the power of earth, of clay, of stone
The swollen ground claims the creek – my creek, my creek, mine
The sway of stems, green and gold
Lit by a dapple of sun and ripple
Grasses murmur and rattle
Flowers lure the bee, the bird, the possum
To the meadow, the stream, the enchantment
The restless creek claims the water – my water, my water, mine
Noise, croaking frogs, screaking insects
Water moves, slides, sloshes
Comes from somewhere to go elsewhere
Giggles and gurgles, splatters and swirls
Splashes and chuckles, titters and cackles
The music of water as it slides over, around, through
The water claims the rock – my place, my place, mine
The earth, sand and soil and stones
Rocks, grey, brown, tinged in gold
Deny the movement of time
Solid, motionless
They hold their place
Sentinel, foundation, strength
Streaked with white and silver, with memories
The rock claims the age – forever, forever, and now.
CS Dunn 2015
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image from Pixabay
And a second poem, sad, a broken heart, so if you don’t want to feel that, leave now.
Remember
What was your name
How can I remember you
My blackened heart
My shattered soul
The images of what could have been
Mark me
Lost
Did I give you a name
Was there a name for the life that slipped away
Was there time to bestow a name
To something not yet someone
Was there time to grieve
Tell me your name
To bring you alive in my memories
I know the second I lost you
The moment you died
When will the time come
When I can give you a name
Your name
Is there a name for
The dreams
The hopes
The ambitions
A name to remember
To fill the hole that is now my heart
To ease the pain of my tortured soul
There is no name
Those few precious moments when you had life
Have faded into a few precious moments
Only mine, only memories
And I lost you
CS Dunn
Yes, I’m still as sick as a hairy black dog (see previous post).
