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.

11 November 2014

David at 20 (Verse Portrait 104)

My son David —
slim and golden, beautiful —
looks good in all his clothes now,
and is more adventurous with them.

The red T-shirt lightens him up.
He smiles and talks to me
more than he used to.

He seems very happy lately,
confident and free;
even laughs at my jokes.

He has been growing muscle
working as a builder's labourer
(holiday job) for his dad
in Tasmania, at the caravan park.

Found poem from old journal entry 14/1/87


  1. Oh... this must be dredging up a whole host of memories going through your old journals.I feel sadness about...don't know whether it is the moon cycle or just seasonal...Take care !

    1. Well yes, these memories are emotionally mixed. The said caravan park turned out to be a disastrous business venture. And those strong muscles my son grew enabled him to pick up our dear (large) old dog in his arms when she lost mobility due to old age and illness, so we could take her to the vet for her last sleep. Perhaps you were tuning into some of that?

  2. Going through old poems, and letters and photos is poignant, yet so wonderfully rich are the times remembered. I am enjoying this look back with you, Rosemary.

    1. Stick around! It might be a bit spasmodic, depending what else is going on at any time, but I am enjoying it too.