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.

5 May 2015

This Moment

Found poem: excerpts from journal entry, 4 February 2001. 
Shaped into poetry 5 May 2015.

To Andrew
this moment:
accompanying him 
to lunch and a movie 
for his birthday. 
He is 72.

He drives along
this winding gravel road,
so narrow
we squeeze to the edge
when cars come the other way.

Relief! Both causeways
are high and dry —
only yesterday
still partly under water.
But the sun is shining.
‘Look!’ I say.

I am thankful
for the ferns of the rainforest,
the sun glancing,
the bends that slow the car,
the smell of leaves.

In a chaos
of flood and danger,
branches down,
time seeming warped,
when we crash over debris
and the car stinks of wet –

in such a space,
these green ferns,
this golden light
soften and soothe
the air, the mood. 

We enter the highway.
Not at all wet here.
What happened
to all the water?
You’d never know; 
so normal.

A syncopated rhythm
plays on the car radio.
‘When the sun shines
on the mountain’
sings the singer.

I realise the man
is singing of freedom
no-one can take away.

Shared in today's Tuesday Platform at 'imaginary garden with real toads.


  1. I love this poem - particularly because I know the beautiful area you are describing with its pot hole winding roads and the smell of the tropical wet rainforest. Blow a kiss to Mount Warning for me and
    Happy Birthday to your friend Andrew.

  2. Will blow that kiss for sure!

    It was actually my late husband who was having the birthday. The poem is based on a really old journal entry from when we lived at North Tumbulgum and had to go to Coolangatta to see new movies, as there was no cinema yet in Tweed or Kingscliff, and the Regent in those days showed them later. Things have changed a bit in the last 14 years!

    1. Not surprising you should think it recent, since we have just had heavy rains again.

  3. interesting how nature seems always constant as our lives walk by. the rains they come and go, the sun awakens and the stars of night appear and through this our years come and go


  4. so much difference between old days and new days, technology!!

  5. Those last three lines and the whole ride, charm me. As does life in so many ways.

  6. A beautiful and heart-warming tribute to your late husband Rosemary.. it shows your undying love towards him..!

  7. The way you describe the contrast between the ferns and the open highway this could also work as an extended metaphor for life itself.

  8. interesting write; and i luv the fact that, realisation which comes as the journey progresses

    much love...

  9. This was comfortable and real.

  10. The transformation of prose into found poetry is a compelling route here--not knowing any of the biographical detail we sing along, imagining, wondering, who is this man? where is this exotic place? where are they emerging from? what heart is revealed? Golden light, water, it feels like a blessing.

  11. This is just beautiful. Aahhhhhh.

  12. Ah lovely. Vivid and real and sweet . K.

  13. A lot to think about here, Rosemary. As I often do, I relate the poems to my own experiences. First thought was the age 72. I use that quite often, it sounds old to the younger. And hides my own age.
    Second thought as I read down was of the Eagles rock song, Life in the Fast Lane. Here are the words: http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/eagles/lifeinthefastlane.html
    I will stop there, a lot more I could say.

  14. You worked wonders with this found memory.

  15. Beautiful to feel his presence with you so often.

  16. Beautifully felt and remembered, Rosemary. I can see it all.

  17. How lovely you could create poetry from your journal entry. What a gift to have your words tucked away in a journal.

  18. 14 long years, but the love has just grown. The memories, jotted on the sheet, just help to relive the moments. What a narrative, loved it★