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')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). 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 blog posts as much as possible.

17 September 2011


My son visited from cold Melbourne
for the first part of his holiday.
We turned on drizzling rain.

Then he went up to the Gold Coast
to laze on Main Beach with a book.
He enjoyed some sparse, weak sun.

Now of course, he’s back home
and here we have warmth
every day, the mountains clear,

the sky wide and cloudless,
the river sparkling and the ocean
a shimmering vista of deepest blue.

Last Christmas my younger stepson,
also from Melbourne, came.
We said he brought the sun.

It was a hard year, that one. How gladly
we anticipated sweet summer.
He left. Then came the non-stop rain.

The sudden flooding drowned whole towns
and half a city, just a little north of here. Now
in this perfect Spring, we breathe in, and wait.

30 poems in 30 Days: 14, A change in the weather


  1. I remember the awful floods in your part of the world. So much unexpectedly brutal weather everywhere of late, it seems.

  2. It makes it really tempting to consider end-of-the-world scenarios!

  3. have lived through a few floods in my day...one in 85 tore my grandmothers house apart....we saw some not too long back here or near at least...

  4. Lucky for me I wasn't actually in ours, but they were pretty horrific.