Heading for the Borders

If it wasn’t rain,

It will be;

Sooner than you know.

 

And if it hasn’t

Risen just yet,

Wait a while,

For it will …

Though it may not be visible

Even to those who have faith.

 

This is snow

Long before it was snow …

And the same snow

Long after it has fallen.

I am where my forebears dreamed

They would never be:

Above the land and looking down;

Heading for the borders of belief.

 

 

The Dark Iron-Tree

North wolf-door belongs

To the Devil in songs;

The dark iron-tree

Born of dead-sky-sea

Fell through fire, slate

Thick boar-skull plate

And dragon-crest helm

Into the Albion magic realm.

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Gondwana’s Opals

“The richest, the rarest of jewels

Were formed in the

Earliest of long-gone seas,

The most chaotic of places …”

The old miner-ghost whispers –

Echo from the desperate-hope past –

Tears so clear in the corners

Of his passion-determined voice.

“My pick was always sharp,

My bucket always empty, but

There are Gondwana‘s opals here,

I just need time to find them.

I would have you believe in me

Until I do.”

opal

17/6/2013

Photo: www.walgett.org.au

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Number Eleven

Sat in a box today –

For the first time ever –

Something I had truly believed

Beyond me …

Or below me;

I am not sure which.

Funny how

Number eleven

And a name from the past

Can bring

You down …

And up short!

 

Sat in a box today:

Alone, but

Surrounded by friends.

We won –

We do these days –

An exciting habit:

But maybe

I lost myself

And found a bigger picture;

That leaves me so confused.

Now that I have stumbled upon

A truth, is it right

To go on

Playing the fool?

 

1/4/2013