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 January 2013


We'd been dating a couple of weeks.
'I can't come out with you Saturday,' I said. 
'My house-mate and I are having a garage sale.' 
He didn't say much, just asked what time.
I told him it would be most of the day. 
'OK,' he said. I thought he took it well. 

On Saturday morning he turned up
still not saying much, just lent a hand
setting everything out, then sat there for hours 
on a low chair, helping to sell. 
His Blues Brothers t-shirt declared
he was on a mission from God. 

And so he was, always. 
Long before I knew him he was inspired 
to bring Discovery, a program for teenagers
out to Australia from Hawaii and set it up. 
Parents were always coming up to him later
in public places to thank him. 

As an investigative journalist, 
though he got little credit, he instigated 
major social reforms — at the risk 
of personal danger. Some nights we didn't dare
answer the phone. The Senate Enquiry 
almost gave him a heart attack, but he spoke up.

And when he discovered first-hand 
that the nature spirits called fairies are really real, 
and having a hard time trying to look after the planet,
he wrote a book for children so they would know too, 
and know that we need to make spaces 
in polluting and destroying our home environment.

He was a wonder. His last night at home,
before he collapsed and went to hospital,
I came down with a nasty cough. 
He could barely stand, yet he stood 
behind my chair to lay his hands on my shoulders. 
He still had the best Reiki hands.

Our friend Letitia, who knows these things,
had him picked as an earth angel.
He was feisty and funny (an angel is not a saint)
but one way and another he was in service.
He had a long talk with his daughter since passing over.
He told her he's helping young people. That'd be right.

Submitted for Wonder Wednesday #17 at Poets United

This seems to me very prosey and in need of more work (though the slanginess 
is on purpose) but to meet the prompt I need to post this draft now.
All poems here are subject to the possibility of change.


  1. Oh, Rosemary, I love your poem! I love how he touched so many! Yes, the angels on earth are such a gift and a wonder. My Dad was one...
    Thank you for sharing and I love the slang and tone! ;D

    1. Thanks to you, Ella, for providing the impetus with your 'wonder' prompt. I'm glad you like the way this turned out. I'm glad I've succeeded in conveying who he was.

  2. I love this poem exactly the way it is. He WAS a wonder. I love it that he was in service. Some souls are like that. Love that he gave you Reiki when he was so frail himself. Sigh. Beautiful, Rosemary. He was a wonder!!!!!!

  3. I love this man simply because of the wonderful poem you've written. What a gift and a blessing... as is this piece. Thank you, Rosemary.

    1. Yes, although I grieve, I cannot feel I missed out on anything. He made sure I knew Love.

  4. I agree with the above - the prosey nature you speak of lends the poem a beauty and a directness a more crafted piece may lose. It is immediate, deep, complex and very moving. a great read.

    1. Thank you for taking the trouble to say so. I appreciate your opinion.

  5. I don't think it's prosey -- I think it's poetic. Of course, with modern poetry prose weaves in and adds to the magic.

    Wow, he was quite a man, but he had to be to equal you as a mate, Rosemary. He knew you were a prize well before the garage sale.


    1. Thanks, Jannie. I'm surprised and pleased at the consensus here that this is working as a poem. I still think it needs improvement, but will sit on it awhile and come back with a fresh eye later.

      Yes, he told me very early, 'I want you to know I'm absolutely committed to this relationship' - at a time when I was still thinking, 'What relationship? We've only just started going out.' Not for the last time, he was wiser than me.