Poems
Table of Contents
In the Backyard by David McVilly
The tai chi is peace-giving today
No effort, just performing the forms completely,
In the garden,in the sun.
I look up and see the distant blueness of the sky
And the reclining rain clouds full of vapour.
I stop at these feelings, not wanting to question
These moments of calm in the sunny warmth
Of my own backyard.
Just for the moment no worries beset me,
No leaking taps, no powerlesness nor powerfulness,
Only these moments of unexpected peace.
Blossoms above,deep yellow lemons at eye level
With my own tamarillo tree, as always,
Reminding me of Arabia and the wonder
that it matured at all.
The grass is long but green and soft.
I feel no desire to make it look shaved.
My trees are scraggy up close but I am happy
That they soften the rudeness
Of the neighbours’ gawking units.
My huge lillypilly entered the sewer last week
And is lush with a thick green growth
Which has earned it a reprieve for now.
The house is not falling down
On it’s old wooden stumps.
It looks at me with a quiet confidence,
Peaceful, empty and inviting.
The camellias peep out as always
Reminding me of flowers in debutantes’ hair.
Even the washing is barely moving on the line.
And as I record these moments of my own reprieve,
I give thanks to life.
Becoming Grandparents by Possum Dee
In 2018, our kids one, two and three,
Informed us that we would grandparents be.
Within only 4 weeks our grandchildren were due!
Could this story really be true?
“What” we said. “How could this be?”
“To go from none, to grandparents of three?”
But where to go first? We were so torn.
Canberra, London, or stay in Melbourne?
The grandson in Canberra was first to be born.
We flew up to meet him, our love to adorn.
Then bravely to London, alone, I flew,
To meet the next grandson, our number 2.
Stayed only one week, I could not delay.
Our granddaughter, number 3, was on the way.
And so, there was born, two boys, then a girl.
Three blessings came into our lives in a whirl.
What could make this story even more surprising?
More grandchildren, of course, our numbers multiplying.
In 2020, our kids did all state –
We are having a baby! Isn’t that great!
This time, at least, it was a little more spread
Not in four weeks, but over four months instead.
A girl, then a boy, then a girl was born.
We were ecstatic, but also quite torn.
Our new granddaughter in Melbourne we could cuddle and hold.
It was such a beautiful time for us to behold.
But with Corona Virus shutting everything down.
We couldn’t even plan to leave Melbourne town.
No travel to London to meet our new grandson.
No travel to Canberra, to meet the latest one.
To hold them and hug them would just have to wait
Until the borders opened on a future date.
With elation in November 2020, finally we could,
Travel to Canberra. Cuddle new granddaughter, so good.
Even though we are vaccinated, we still were not able
To fly to London, our new grandson to cradle.
This story did finally have a positive end.
In Feb ‘22, in London, time we did spend.
With our grandsons, we were able to cuddle and play.
Will they move to Melbourne? Maybe one day!
Lucy's Journey by David McVilly
Then Lucy begins to look and smile
At her mother, brother, father
And in time others.
What is she thinking?
What does she feel?
I know she cries from new found pain
And sometimes separation.
She is on the road to being a woman.
Lucy is Nine by David McVilly
Lucy speaks confident and fast
Busy is Lucy but she never comes last.
Lucy can twist her body as a youth
And I think that she always tells the truth.
But one day Lucy will slow to a walk
And sometimes need to talk,
For there is a fate we are born to share
At the moment too far ahead for her to care.
For Christine by David McVilly
“You are lovely”
She was not afraid
For she was femininity and allure
With her patterned dress up to her neck
Because she wanted to preserve the mystery.
He was overcome with fairy love
But he knew that fairies did not exist
Was it cowardice or wisdom?
She married a fruitarian yogi
And he retained her love for life
Though she is dead
She still lives in his heart.
True Wisdom, False Gods by Wellington Pennyne
Torment over this great mantissa, bereft
of cause and determination, to achieve
Herein lies the burden of a thousand ancestors,
what use the benefit of cognisance,
etched onto this chiselled face, providence wrath
‘pon the mind of the heretic, to observe
A sea of fools on this river, hopeless
Mediocrity abounds, obliviousness confounds
This starry night of depraved hedonism
The branch that dares not dip its toe in the creek
Lest it be swept away into infinitude,
Of life and in death, too great can exist
Sobriety tending to rebel, in futility;
Victim to this same ailment
Blessed with exemplary knowledge,
Cursed with boundless understanding.
Palindromic misery centred around momentary elation;
in suffering, silent solitude thereafter.
Prince Andre Bolkonsky Finds Peace by David McVilly
As you lay on the battleground at Austerlitz
You saw clouds moving across the sky
And you compared this vision to this war.
Nature and even death seemed more.
Then you saw the great Napoleon
Strutting to avoid the bodies
And suddenly you knew
He was no hero but an obsessed being.
Then once again you saw
The clouds still floating.
And you realised this.
War was ugly, love, hopeful.
But you survived and went back
Seeking death and victory.
Borodino and Napoleon again.
This time the great man left you
To your loving Natasha who watched you
Give up your spirit and enter the closed door.
Ode to Mr. Donne by Randy Kristel
Some 400 years hence, my attestation to you sir;
Your Anne my Margaret, forgive my pretentiousness;
There is no difference;
Even now as you said, though living, we are dead;
And, the winter redbird still appears against the bleakness to the sad sap;
To balm the loss;
Reminding him of the joy that was its cost.
Pieces for Free by Keyanna Farken
When my earthly body dies don’t shed a tear that day
Just tear my body limb from limb and give it all away
Take every piece that’s needed
Take every part of me
For if I die tomorrow know my soul is finally free
Take all the things useful
And take everything you must
Then when my body is but a shell turn the rest into dust
Take all the pieces of me that were not free to give before,
Then leave each extra piece to waste that’s not needed anymore.
My soul will be beneath the ocean and floating out at sea,
I’ll be in all the things you don’t think about and rarely ever need
My bones mean nothing trapped inside a tomb with my dismay,
The soil never spoke to me as somewhere I could lay.
So Don’t put me in a box that you bury 6 feet down,
As you sing a subtle hymn that in the moment seems so profound.
My parts can live on in strangers you’ll never even see, while soul goes on to find the peace this earth never brought to me.
The Wheel Turned by David McVilly
I taught that two-year-old
To kick straight and long
By sixteen he kicked very long
And ran like a gazelle
But I
Kicked like him when two.
Pentecost by David McVilly
When the Spirit of God
Came down on fearful men, they never knew
That the Spirit would come again
In huge halls and sacred places
And they sing and dance for joy
God is in their soul
They speak in different tongues
And ask for instant healing
For their faith is steely strong
Strong belief in the bible
Leaving no doubt within
Born again by water
And sometimes by troubled lives.
Generous to members
In spirit and materials
But there is no doubt
And that is the mystery of their faith.
Being you is Beautiful - Katie Sheehy
Being you is Beautiful
She struggled,
She cried,
With tears in her eyes.
Being herself
Did not matter.
For she never realised,
With sadness in her eyes
That societies expectations,
Stopped her, from trying to embrace.
We are all different,
But it was a struggle,
For she thought…
Being who she was,
Seemed entirely unacceptable.
Now she acknowledges,
Her true beauty inside,
It took quite some time…
That being you….
Is something that you should never hide.
Who you are,
Is a gift from heaven,
So inhale peace……..
And exhale……. the devil.
You are beautiful,
And you know that,
It’s just time to accept,
That, being you…. IS Beautiful.
….. And that’s a matter of fact!
So follow your intuition,
And secrete your imagination,
If society shows ignorance,
That’s their opinion,
Just know,
You are still AMAZING!
Whispers - Mair McNeil
There are whispers from another world,
Barely heard, stirring numbed emotions.
Traumatised, desensitised man wakes
From his apathy and witnesses
Deprivation and violation
Scored on the souls of his brothers.
Dare to care and demand sanity! Why?
Who would have thought The Wall would fall
Where barbed and bloodied bricks testified
To the cruel tyranny of the few?
Or where black and white in Mandela land,
Purged through bloodshed, form a fragile pact?
Man’s worth is not decreed by colour!
Wars wreak havoc, breathe the whispers, on
A wounded bleeding Humanity.
From turmoil will emerge compassion
And respect for all peoples on Earth.
Try again, say the whispers, strive again!
With effort and travail, in Ages to come,
THERE WILL BE PEACE.
COWDOM - MJ Pacey
As I lie here ruminating,
Chewing grass and contemplating,
I think how good to be a cow
And not some horse tied to a plough.
I gaze upon my field’s expanse
And wonder by what random chance
I’m in this world and for what reason
And does the answer wait another season.
In my time I may yet learn
The knowledge that I often yearn
Perhaps to learn another day
And understand the role I play.
Still, in this green and peaceful field
It takes no time to softly yield
To quiet thoughts and carefree days
And render life its worthy praise.
And with no worries on my brow
I humbly bend my head and bow
To pay due tribute to the horse
Who leads the plough without remorse.
After Polonius – David McVilly
The tree glistening in the Spring sunlight on Genoa Peak
The little wildflowers beautiful amidst their spiky leaves
Do nothing but be – there to be admired
Or not.
They follow the tao of nature
Aided by being protected within a national park.
As I crouch waiting for Meloney to catch up,
Burl Ives comes into my memory
“The little white duck sitting in the water
Doing what it orter
Quack, quack, quack.”
So animals follow the way of nature
Without a theology, thoughts or Church.
Humans are the outsiders
For we look into our cultural ragbags
To look for clues toward a way
I think of Neilson’s young girl
Who listened like the orange tree
Or Augustine “Be still and know the peace of God”
As for right action, I think of Jesus and the Buddha
For we are most ourselves when we love,
These men gave themselves.
They speak of patience, of no fear or jealously,
The courage and authenticity to face
Sickness, old age and death.
They also spoke of birds and flowers,
Building their peace on a silent rock within.
“Where’s God?” I said to John.
“In there” he said, with a jab to my chest.
The House - Robert Harrison
The house was old its thatched roof askew,
And pigeons did rule the loft.
Two hundred years since it was new,
Wattled and daubed next to Blackwell’s croft.
Its garden still bequeaths its brightest flowers,
To adorn Saint Michael’s church.
The alter wreathed with it’s scented bowers,
The pews were bedecked with Silver Birch.
The ancient well gives off its water clear,
To fill the Saxon bowl.
And with a tilted head, a child held dear
Is wetted to save its soul.
It’s apple trees still bear Russet fruit
In the season of the year.
The small round pond where swims the newt,
And frogs in courtship you hear.
At night when owls glide on silent wings,
Black bats do sally forth.
A child’s old swing swayed gently by the wind,
Cooled by snows to the north.
The old house stood in a proud defiant stance,
Its windows are no longer lit
By smoking lamp and fire lights merry dance
Where once the young did sit.
A future for years once held in ambiguous doubt,
As the curious came to view.
Until a young bride, excited, did in a silent shout
For she foresaw its future anew.
The house now restored to its former proud glory,
Its windows curtained bright.
Podmoors Thatch now seen in the pictured book story,
Dancing flames holding back the night.
Two hives in the garden are full of sweet honey,
The bees having played their part
For the bride who restored the house not with money,
But with the love she held in her heart.
I Opened The Door - Mair McNeill
I opened the door, and I felt deep within
All the stirrings of Life and of Love begin
And with it, I questioned each doctrine, each creed,
Felt anguish and torment in all I believed,
‘Till many a time I would whisper ” No More “!
And quietly fasten that opening door.
But- time and again – I would peep deep within
Where the stirrings of Life and of Love begin.
I would gaze at the world with uncovered eyes,
At the green of the fields, at the blue of the skies
And wonder at Nature whose unceasing toil
Rears Flora and Fauna with each grain of soil.
I would think on the plight of my fellow man
And the role that he plays in the Divine plan.
I would weep for the barriers of colours of skin.
How the stirrings would stir in that place deep within!
How often religions divide – and not bind,
Imposing restrictions on the mind of mankind,
For I am not a Christian, a Muslim or Jew,
I’m a child of the Universe, and so are you.
Our God is the Father of Humanity,
We are brothers and sisters, a world family.
Yet God is the Spirit of Life in each thing –
Then we too are spirit in this place deep within.
We are embodied spirit endeavouring to learn
The spiritual truths, so that we may return
To add lustre to the Great Spirit of Life
When our bodies are spent from our earthly strife.
Have you opened the door to that place deep within
Where the stirrings of Life and of Love begin?
I treasure the moment when I found the Key
That opened the door to the slumbering – ME.
Chose Forgiveness - Dave Laudenslager
We can look to the future, or we can live in the past.
We can have a life full of passion and love that will last.
Or we can live in the past and live a life of regret.
And hold on to bitterness that we will never forget.
We are God’s children; imperfect are we
Forgiveness is a gift I give to thee.
A gift of forgiveness is for what I pray.
I love you more than words can say
For the Birds - Robert A. Snow
A bird squawked and flew overhead
I shouted “I’ll shoot you down dead”
Not seeming to care
It flew through the air
And left a small splat on my head
I aimed at this winged airborne louse
As it circled around to the south
With squawking and jeers
These words reached my ears
“Tilt your head back and open your mouth”
I looked up and saw my defeat
That one bird was now a whole fleet
Their guano rained down
I thought I might drown
From now on I shoot only skeet
Wrapped Up Together- Gb Goddard
Wrapped up together as one with Kathy. Nothing else mattered when we were together. We were one.
Then the world creeps in, distracting us, tugging at us, pulling us apart, in so many directions, work, bills, house, kids, family, friends. No more fun.
Suddenly you wake up and you are no longer one, everything else matters except us. We became two.
Then the world slips away, no longer distracting us, tugging at us, pulling us apart, work is easy, kids are gone, house is done, bills are few.
What is left but two who are trying to become one again.
The happiest time of my life was lying with Kathy so close we were one.
Love and passion are still as strong as it was back then.
I would give everything I have to feel like that again even if only for a minute with my true best friend.
Wrapped up together as one with Kathy. Nothing else matters until we become one again.
Make a Wish - Aaliyah Burgess
Out to the oceans of space
Beneath the endless void
Echos of things long dead
Reaching back to us
Where gravity implants our feet
In soil made of things long past.
Tell us your secrets
You wanted to once,
Once you sent out your light
Into the infinite nothing
Thats somehow everything
To touch other
Bits of stardust expelled
To the far reaches,
Away from you,
With hard-earned wisdom
Of molten beginnings
And dwindling ends.
How did it feel
To stare out into the
Emotionless expanse
With your crumbling,
meteor crater face
And use the final embers
Of yourself pleading for mercy
To be met with silence?
Please tell us.
Please tell me.
I'm Strong - Anuksha Ravi
Beneath the weight of words unkind,
I strive to prove my worth, I find.
In shadows cast by those who doubt,
I paint my strength, a silent shout.
Regrets echo in the silence deep,
Yet I rise, my resolve to keep.
Smiles conceal the ache within,
A quiet battle, I’ll always win.
Hate may linger, a chilling breeze,
But I’m more than their displease.
A pearl adrift in a sea of scorn,
In solitude, a heart reborn.
For those who despise, I won’t break,
I’ll rise above, for my own sake.
Simple, painful, the struggle’s art,
A wounded soul, mending its heart.
Wireless Connection - Harley R
The silence overwhelms me as I sit,
long after the appointed time, waiting.
Alone in my room with the glow of a screen.
Somewhere, across the world and out of sight,
they must be doing something else.
Your writing dispels my anxiety. We talk
without voice, without sight.
I do not know you and perhaps never will,
yet our computers are confessionals,
confiding through a relay.
I have never seen your face.
(You have sent a picture before, of a stranger,
whose unmoving eyes I’ve never met).
In its place is your ideas of yourself,
packed into a suitable resolution.
You have sent a message to me first.
I can read it in your voice.
I know that, across the whole world,
amid the chaos of a thousand frozen voices,
you want to hear me.
Remembrances - David Royston Cross
At the autumn’s misty turning,
when the leaves are falling fast,
does the rose hold memories fondly,
of the petals long since cast.
When the very last swallow of summer,
has flown south his weary way.
Does the sky recall in glory,
a far off sun-kissed day.
When winter’s crisp and silent cloak,
of diamond glittering snow,
has chilled our hearts and fingers,
do those memories gently flow.
Does your store of recollection,
now dim and past its age,
burn a single solitary candle,
flick’ring midst the tempest’s rage.
About that day far to the north,
I often reminisce.
The way I brushed your hair,
your tender loving kiss,
the way we loved and laughed,
the things we could but share.
We made a stranger stare,
that day without a care. . . .!
Moving House - David McVilly
Start moving 50 years before, not when you are four score.
You have many books and your wife had many nooks.
So you used Council hard rubbish six times
But still needed a 1000 dollar skip
And haunted the Op Shop strip.
Oil, paint tins and paint went to a depot
While household cleaners and poisons
Went to a detox day forty miles away
I paid 500 for the piano
As the kids went long ago
The piano was a German 1886
Far too old to fix.
The Salvos took 30 boxes of books
And I took 8 to a little place with little space.
Next I paid 100 to the shreddder man
My neighbour took the tool box and the sewing set
For nothing!
The days of throwing all to skips and drains and bins
Have past if you are green
Unless you do it all unseen.
It would not be a sin or illegal
But one more blemish for earth.
And I would have the deed for life
Like the mariner’s albatross
Which then makes a virtue into a vice.
Now if you can add the above
Shifting is the opposite to love.
Growing Older - Rev. Lynda A Wittey
Some stars are wonderful and bright,
Then there’s always other nights,
With black, wind and rain.
I wake, it’s cold, this day,
Reminding me of life itself,
Let’s sleep the day away,
Nothing important in my life,
No one to tell me, Lazy bones.
Now come on, this is my abode,
You should understand,
I have had my days to learn,
Even had my days to earn.
My time is mine, except,
To lend a hand,
Or run the dog, down the sand,
These chores are delightful,
Ah, having done it all,
Now, I look forward to pleasurable.
Dancing each Monday, having a Ball.