I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

Some of these poems are autobiographical, some are entirely fictional, and some are a mixture of both. The intention is art rather than self-expression. I don't allow factual details to get in the way of poetry! (I do seek emotional truth.) They are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here. Copyright also applies to almost all photos posted here, though a few are licensed under Creative Commons.
Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your posts as much as possible.

12 March 2008

Among Trees

Birds are the first thing I hear
when I sit down beside the fig and the hoop pine. Lots of them,
chirruping conversationally
from tree to tree, sounding happy
in the late sun softened by a breeze.

Then I hear the sea,
continual, always our background.
The cyclist in the park glides silently
but the birds notice and comment: a sudden flurry of music.

When I listen deeper, I hear
the leaves moving very gently
fluttering like feathers. It seems the trees
are spreading wings and preening, it seems they smile.
I rest my chin in my hands. I am in no hurry to go anywhere.

The circling branches of the fig
make a frame for the park and the road beyond.
The sun starts to burn my back through my nylon blouse.
A helicopter growls and chugs in the clouds.

© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2008


My friend Raeline, visiting in January from overseas, gave me a reading with her Spiritual Voyager cards. One thing I was told was to go out into nature, listen to nature, and then write my poems. It's productive!


  1. The sound of aeroplanes on a clear day is something I associate strongly with summer and countryside. And here too is your helicopter (caught up, incidentally, in a very nice line).

    It is funny how we have come to associate the least natural of things with the most.

  2. When I lived really in the country, as distinct from the present coastal village, it was tractors on hot, lazy afternoons! :)