Curled in the tootsies this morn
winter, about to be born
frosty views of the window
deceiving me with blue sky
mother nature should not lie
but here I am freezing cold
blanket hostage I will hold.
Tag: poet
NaPoWriMo – 7/30 – View from the campervan
I’ve finally arrived back in Melbourne city after spending the last five days in the red centre of Australia. The following is inspired by my final moments there… and I am happy to have finally caught up with napowrimo.
the endless grassy landscape
to much for one heart to take
little geckos try to blend
young dingos want a friend
looking beyond what i see
the laughter of family
penetrates the silent dreams
as thirsty eyes search for streams
I love this sunburnt country
like a kestral floating free
I love this sunburnt country
roaming wild and free.
Feel free to share...
NaPoWriMo – 6/30 – Kathleen Springs
An aqua family
lives below copper rocks
that enclose and impose
over a desert valley.
The rainbow dragons fly
twinkling above the still
dancing the whistling breeze
listening to the birds squee and cry,
Rustles in nearby grass
warrants suspicious looks
studying every blade
a city girls anxious task.
But deep in this spiritual home
all can come and all can roam.
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NaPoWriMo – 5/30 – Sunset @ Kings Canyon
Camp chairs resting quietly
Photographers line the landscape
Waiting and anticipating
The gradual descending
Of the yellow ball in the sky
The crickets begin their soundtrack
As the hot sunburnt rock glows
Over the grassy horizon
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NaPoWriMo – Day 4 – Desert @ Dusk
a couple heads in the outback
front row to the Milky Way
navy ceiling sprinkled with stars
oh, the immensity of space
oh, the vastness of this place
a couple of heads in the desert
surrounded by red rocks and sand
sleeping dingos, snakes and flies
oh, the immensity of this space
oh, the vastness of this place
Feel free to share...
NaPoWriMo – 3/30 – I saw a turtle on Uluru
I saw a turtle
on a side of Uluru
caught in sands of time
red, hot and frozen
under a strong southern sun
surveying the land
a fractured earth wishing rain
would replenish its thirst
Turtle nods ‘palya’ to new friends
that gulp down water
finding solace in rare shade
but showing respect
to him and his ancient rock.
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NaPoWriMo 2015 – 1/30 – Reflecting
Is it too late for yesterday?
A reel of memories on replay;
The Lions roar turned out the lights
Casting the day into the night
Hiding under the Chelsea Bridge
Haunted by the London Blitz
Smoke stings her weathered grey skin
A mighty war she was breathing in
Fightin’ them for bread and water
A small bereft southern daughter
Blasted out of her rub-a-dub
Just her and her little cub.
What happens when tomorrow comes
Will she be cast back into the slums
collateral damage of this time
where being poor was a crime.
The photos linger in the past
But the stigma will always last
Just a shot of another place
Another time in another space.
Feel free to share...
7 o clock haiku
7 o clock shadows
thawing from the icy wind
winter is coming.
Feel free to share...
Bluey Thoughts
Thoughts fall to my bashful Blue
as the world spins without you.
Daydreams of Cabrera woods
where long ago we once stood.
You in blue, brown, black and white
Me in navy dress and tights.
Our bench sleeps quietly
nestled within the tall trees
if those ancient oaks could talk
they would tell tales of our walks
trotting around the river
after school until I shivered
then up the hill to our home
where I would read a heavy tome
and you would curl at my feet
enjoying the roaring fires heat.
Feel free to share...
a sad thought
Brunching in the city park
shopping from dawn until dark
inhaling strong chai lattes
in the labyrinth of laneways.
I’m staggering to recall
memories of us, is this all
random moments here and there
tucked away beneath the stairs.
Pictures of you are calling
through the hallway echoing
I remember, you were there
popping in to show you care.
The seasons have clouded my
memories of you. I want to cry
yearning for the could have been
dwelling on the should have been.
With the storm came the changing
your life was rearranging
contemplating what was next
every conversation hexed
a tired withering flower
yielding to a Spring shower
drowning in abundance of time
poisoned by the cheese and wine.
Charlie Ann Alford 
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