I am grateful that you have visited my blog. I hope your visit is a successful one. Please feel free to comment, contact or otherwise interact with the site and with me. I'm beginning to spread my wings photographically, so please take a look at Paul's Photos on Flickr (on the right). which will lead you to my presence on Flickr. Again, your comments, feedback or whatever are very welcome. Let us assist each other in our pursuit of our own truth, our own Dreaming. Peace!

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Share with Me: The Birth of a Poem.

I finished a poem today, and I would like to share its birth with you, my faithful readers (if indeed there are any of you out there). It began, this poem, as I sat as a passenger driving through the country near our home here on the Murray River. And I finished it over a cup of tea at our local bakery following a stroll and a lie down on a log staring up at the speeding (is the word scudding? Sounds like a nautical thing) down by the river, listening to the whistles of the river paddle steamers as they plied the tourist trade.

Now that I've got you all psyched up, the poem has more or less (not sure which is correct; help me out here?) nothing to do with either the river or the country around or the bakery or me being a passenger which I'm not very often as it happens.

It's about my father. And another person he met on the day in question. Sad story all round really. But let the poem speak for itself. I lay no claim to it being a 'good' poem-or otherwise really. In fact it really is a first draft; I have only just now finished the first typing of it into my lovely laptop filing system.

So,here it is for your interest. Any feedback will be gratefully welcomed-whatever it is that's said. It is a gift anyway, from me, to you. Whoever you are.

A Sunshine Coast Meditation Session

Sitting close, thigh to thigh

on the tiny two seater settee.

Left hand on the one, clutches the right

of the other.

Fingers entwined in desperation

as they both, the two of them,

teeter on the rim

of the waiting


all devouring


Alone—and lonely.

Loneliness oozes from the pores

of aging skins. The psyches

too, are lost.

Spiralling towards


Echuca Australia

September 2009

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