Just in case anyone has wandered this far into my pages,
I hope you stay a little longer and read a few of the poems
I wrote during 1999.

I will remember 1999 as the year in which I fell
totally in love with the beauties of nature.
I have always enjoyed the pleasures of my own garden,
the Australian landscape and the rich diversity of our world.
But in 1999 I was led further, and opened my eyes
to the wonders of the Universe.
I don't understand it, maybe never will,
but I appreciate it so much more the more i learn.

For that I thank max and won who so generously share
their knowledge and insights and hold my hand at times
as i stumble over concepts that give my brain whip-lash!

~~~~~~~~~~*************~~~~~~~~~~~

~~1999~~

followers lead
leaders follow
lovers hate
enemies embrace
scientists pray
at god's funeral
...........1999
the world spins on

(31 July 1999)

~~Suburban Spring~~

A family of possums has moved into my yard,
Thick-furred bustling shakes the liquidamber
By day. No sight of them till dusk.
Then, one by one, they pirouette
Along the roof ridge,
Twitching noses seeking sweetness.
Silent movement, slithering down roof tiles,
Like fearless acrobats they grip the wires
Of the telephone line, leading them
Scampering to nocturnal nectar.
Famished by a day spent sleeping
They guzzle the stickiness of my fruit,
And daintily, nibble apricot leaves.
My torch's spotlight mesmerises them;
Huge liquid eyes unblinking,
Vulnerable pink nose aquiver, they wait-
Paws still guilty with the evidence
Of their midnight plunders.

We have possums in our blossoms,
Suburban spring has sprung.

(8 August 1999)

~~Broulee Island~~

Three black cockatoos
Still as eternal Dreamtime
Perch on a corked banskia.
Gnarled, awkward, battered branch
Supports their arrogant perfection.
Cunning, depthless eyes
Bead across their realm
They're proud, powerful, poised
They own the land

Three black fishermen
Island custodians, Dreamtime descendents,
Spread nets with measured grace
Upon ancestral ocean.
With the charitable permission
Of Government regulations
And Council ordinances,
This one day of the year-
Allowed to fish with nets.
They're black, powerless, unbent.
Despite permission,
They own the land

(19 August 1999)

~*~Spring~*~

springtime in the garden makes me smile
the sweetness of the scent seduces
and softens all my senses
(makes me write poetry rotten with excess!)
i become indiscriminate in my pleasure
taking joy from every growing thing
i flit like the tiny silvereyes
from bloom to blossom to spurting leaf
all things in the garden excite me now
minutae loom large in my indulgence glance
the speckle in the throat of a shadowed violet
the frilled petals of a showy camellia
the smothering aroma of the lilac
are all so sensual that i spin and swoon
im a fool for spring there is no doubt
im alive in spring, thank you god.

(21 October 1999)

~~Letter from Conrad~~

dear ma, this is your furry son conrad
writing from canberra, like a nice little fella,
cos you know im a good bear, never am bad
despite wot that hussy i live with may tell ya.

shes been mean to me, ma, and cruel as a nelly
she even stuck a diamond into my soft furry belly!!

oh the life of a bear is hard as can be,
tho she gives me nice cuddles, she sits on my knee
(i darent tell her she's too heavy for little ole me!)
she breathes in my ear
and calls me 'my dear'
ooohh she's after my body, im totally scared!
cos im a good boy i am, not a wild ted

so ma, please write and tell her im too tired
to join her in an afternoon of cyber.

11 November 1999

(this ditty was written for my friend sally
who made me a lovely tiny teddy bear
about 3 inches tall. i named him conrad.
he sits on one of my speakers
and watches me chat,
he wears a little green knitted vest
and has a diamond stud in his belly..
he looks exactly like a conrad! )

Easter Sunday, 2000

Sunday morning, clear and cold
Outside. Shadows of a waning moon
Backlight the yard as dawn gains hold.
Inside, I lie awake, bedclothes all strewn,
My jaded, battered mind befuddled
By the dry blast of central heating.
It’s Easter, day of holy miracle-
Christ has risen. I feel my heart beating
As His once did. And for a moment,
A brief snatch of time, amidst my petty woes
I feel a certainty, that in His judgement,
I’m worthy of the gift of my tommorrows
And forgiven for the waste of days gone by.
So, rising, I rid my mind of past sorrows
And with His grace, live the glory of today.

Autumn 2000

have you ever lived your days suspended
when all things are the same as yesterday; same chair, air, face, space
yet a seed, planted perhaps days, years, moments ago, has taken root,
a seed of change, of doors closing, opening, revolving
you breath, sleep, eat, go through the motions of the day,
yes, even the motions of making love; the motions, not the love
yet the seed has taken root, sprouted, forced its unyeilding first leaves into your life
watered and fed by hopes and dreams you thought long dead

and all things are the same.
but in the quiet rustle of autumn leaves
and the echoed silence of a door closing
and the muffled tears of regret
you reach to taste the fruit of change.

25 april 2000

meg's sofa