Sunday 29 September 2013

Proposal.



I have not much in terms of gold
But my head is full of dreams.
I search for truth and beauty
And not money making schemes.

But come, my love, and take this hand.
Let us not waste this treasure life
In narrow scurrying after gold and gain,
Or in a carping, petty, struggling strife.

The world in its wonder lies before us,
It is ours to possess and hold.
Let us dance and sing together
And watch the world in beauty unfold.

So come, take a risk and love me.
Our tomorrows can be filled with light.
I will shower you with most tender care,
And hold you through the dark and night.

O sir what you say is very sweet
Dreams are fine and pure I know
But I rather think we cannot live on such
And hunger will make their promise hollow.

Words are fine and beautiful things
But words without deeds mean almost naught
And life lived on such insubstantial things
Is challenging, difficult and sadly fraught.

For poverty is the thief of love
And disappointment will bring grief.
In the difficulties and struggles of life
 I rather think that money brings some relief

But if, as you say, you truly love me
Then put your shoulder to the wheel
And in diligence and application
Prove to me that your love is real.

Then you can my partner be,
Then we may commune face to face.
Then we may in beauty dwell.
Then you may lie in my embrace.

Monday 16 September 2013

North of Somewhere.



It’s lovely going cycling. Try it and see.
Your legs get strong, your lungs fill with air
And your heart works a treat.
Then the k’s slip by as easily as a caress.
Before you know it you’re on your bike,
North of somewhere, turning a corner
And there’s rainforest cascading down the mountain
In a tangled profusion of vine and tree
Right to the very edge of the sea.
There’s little, thickly wooded, steep islands
Not too far offshore, and in their lee
The sea just quietly laps the low rocky shore.
Beautiful! If you’re very lucky
A cassowary might cross the road,
Or you find yourself at about 8 A.M.
Cycling beside a morning-touched river
With clouds and sky floating in the green stillness.
Up a little rise and around a corner
A cow looks up from her grazing,
Moos quietly and stares with dewy soft eyes.
You pass fields of sugar-cane, bananas,
Paw-paws, pineapples and rich, ploughed, red earth.
You notice the distant mountains
All clear, green and mottled with sunlight.
Maybe tomorrow you’ll grind your way up them,
But then you’ll see incredible things-
Crater lakes as lyrical as you could ever imagine;
Little turtles swimming in the clear water;
Pelicans gliding in so gracefully
And then floating in regal stateliness;
Strangler figs like something out of a fantasy story,
Huge and wide with an impenetrable mass of columns
Descending like some wooden waterfall,
Or maybe a monster pipe organ for forest nymphs;
Buttress roots from the forest giants,
Twisting and turning in elegant serpentine curves;
Columns of light descending in ethereal slant
Through the green tangled canopy to the forest floor;
Cascade of waterfalls into clear cool pond,
Reed-filled swamps where eagles nest in long dead trees.
You pass slowly through little heritage villages,
Once timber towns for kauri pine and cedar-
Wide streets, sprawling corner pubs, little wooden cottages
And there you’ll stop for a cool drink.
Oh yeah, it’s lovely going cycling,
The purr of tyres of the road, the whizz of chain,
Your body enjoying the exercise,
All those endorphins making you feel good,
A sense of being a bit more connected to things,
Like you’re part of something big and grand,
Not just rushing through it in a metal cocoon.
Yeah, it’s really lovely going cycling,
So go on, get off the seat, stand on the pedals,
Climb this little rise and taking a risk,
Turn the corner into the delicious unknown.