I
1 Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us ...
2 Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent ...
3 Low drooping flares confuse our memory of the salient ...
4 Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous,
5 But nothing happens.
6 Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire.
7 Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles.
......
'There's something new in the river,'
The fish said as it swam.
'It's got no scales, no fins and no gills,
And ignores the impassable dam.'
'There's something new in the trees.'
I heard a bloated thrush sing.
'It's got no beak, no claws, and no feathers,
And not even the ghost of a wing.'
......
I.
I dream of you walking at night along the streams
of the country of my birth, warm blooms and the nightsongs
of birds opening around you as you walk.
You are holding in your body the dark seed of my sleep.
II.
This comes after silence. Was it something I said
......
Edna Morris lived in the town of Shadow Fells, in rich green, hilly country,
With doting parents and sister Violet, plucking fruit from their plum tree.
Pretty Edna was twelve years old, but she and Violet played all seasons,
Making skinny scarecrows and fat snowmen, like blizzards of no reason.
Horses were a common sight in the area, like the pastel beauty of dawn.
The Morrises had yet to aquire one, like black velvet, once moon is gone.
Flexible friends frolicked with Violet and Edna, like thrills of the first fall;
......
There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around
That the colt from old Regret had got away,
And had joined the wild bush horses - he was worth a thousand pound,
So all the cracks had gathered to the fray.
All the tried and noted riders from the stations near and far
Had mustered at the homestead overnight,
For the bushmen love hard riding where the wild bush horses are,
And the stock-horse snuffs the battle with delight.
There was Harrison, who made his pile when Pardon won the cup,
......
In the heart of winter, I stand,
Surrounded by a landscape of white silence.
The snow blankets the earth,
Each flake a delicate touch,
Soft, yet unyielding in its cold embrace.
The trees are skeletal fingers,
Reaching up to a sky of muted gray,
Their limbs bare, stripped of life,
Yet beautiful in their stark simplicity.
......
Edna Morris lived in the town of Shadow Fells, in rich green, hilly country,
With doting parents and sister Violet, plucking fruit from their plum tree.
Pretty Edna was twelve years old, but she and Violet played all seasons,
Making skinny scarecrows and fat snowmen, like blizzards of no reason.
Horses were a common sight in the area, like the pastel beauty of dawn.
The Morrises had yet to aquire one, like black velvet, once moon is gone.
Flexible friends frolicked with Violet and Edna, like thrills of the first fall;
......
Upon the earth, a soft and silent shroud,
The first snowfall whispers secrets untold,
Each flake a dream, in silver light endowed,
As nature dons her gown of purest gold.
In quiet awe, the world begins to pause,
The air, a crisp embrace, so fresh and bright,
While laughter dances, children's joyful cause,
Their footprints weave a tale in gleaming white.
......
I always long for winter,
cold but not the rain.
And enjoy the fluffy white,
covering the road and lane.
The icy woods would sparkle,
in the hazy light of sun.
Greyish the skies shall be,
after the storms have gone.
My eyes enjoy the beauty,
......
These are snow, as far as I know
Then, what immaturity of sun afields these!
Far if I go, would the roads allow
To return my home, or release
Untold worries of the day?
These are snow, as far as I know
Yet, I must go to my dear friend;
The woodland is hard and dry though,
Must say 'SORRY' to mend-
......