Best Timber Poems

A straw man stood fixed upon timber firm, 
gazing at Autumn's gilded, moonlit prize.
He, the king of Earth and the winding worm,
she, the pale darling...

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I decorate a grotto for you, Mama
where orchids and holy images
embellish this special place and day,
that saintly icons guard you there
as if they beg me...

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When all is but 
dark and dreary,
and coldness wraps the 
silhouette of 
my wooden surface,
I listen to the 
wafer thin whispers
echoing in whimsy tones-
when the...

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When emotions are
a circle 
          of carefully 
placed d
       ...

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(The memories are simple, living the feeling significant)

After conquering Beamsley Beacon due Southwest,
Rombald’s moor stood, while for centuries
within the valley the minute dwellings
of grey stone,...

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Into the timeless wood he fled, running from the night
While demons of his past gave chase beneath the pale moonlight
The man dressed in soiled rags,...

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I looked up at a silver moon 
Peering through a cloud of misty gloom 
As we sailed across the Atlantic Sea 
That fateful night in...

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The mountains shout His glory,
As they stand in quiet splendor.
The rivers feed the streams and lakes,
And fertile valley's timber.

The ocean whispers mystery,
And surging, quiet power.
Seems...

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I.
Father,
my knees
quiver and quake,
they bend
then break
like a reed
ensnared in
the tempest’s throes

II.
My sanguine palms,
stammering in fear of
Your reprisal,
whimper in their
muted state,
rendered silent by
their barbarity

III.
This timber crucifix,
once...

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Standing all alone in the woods;
eyes shut, I feel the lilting light.
Sun dodges needles through the crown,
beams land on my skin softly so.
Brisk breezes quicken...

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Tonight, a montage is brushed with a splendor
of glazed branches : an arrangement of russet
teal and orange; dappled wisps enticing
my spirit for a pilgrim beyond...

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It was a lovely little house.

Built of white painted timber,

with a gabled roof clad in green tin,

it had never been a rich person's house.

It was...

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IV

A soul was broken to make room
For dusty halls and labyrinths.
A gossamer, nylon bed-sheet shroud
Enwraps the remnants of that mind.
And no excuses can be made;...

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I weave through the rocks of a rough winding trail
Up through the boulders and sage
Following a ridge to the top of the hill
I'm a young...

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Being Your Eyes for Swell 2007
Swell: Currumbin Sculpture Festival
 
For Fred
Picture us arm in arm, strolling,
the crunch of sand underfoot,
the scent of sea air, the...

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