Long Tussock Poems

Brackish-gurgling days that
Unobtrusively slid along
Past tussock grass and curled up 
Balls of Fern...
Glued tightly onto structured vanes
Of outstretched frond.
Venerable Mosses reciting epic tales,
Measured throughout Metronomical 
Strains,
Chanting methodically in harmonious
Downturn - 
Wherein contained: 
Foreboding dialects delivered...

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CHAPTER 4 The Eagle (continued)

Swinging up it glanced the raptor
Merely brushing through its wing-plumes
But the eagle lost its balance 
And released its hold on Rosy
 
Who then plummeted in freefall
But the bird regained its rhythm 
And hard turning...

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The universal worm has got some competition now,
since ‘Sandy’ took me out to Bateson’s dam.
This don’t include the ‘whitchys’ we get in a broken bough,
nor ‘scrubbies’ on the hooks we have to cram
to hide the...

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The pin oak leaves from dormant trees, 
fall on this crisp autumn morn,
as I paint the scene of an artist’s dream;
in my mind this landscapes born.
The patch work green is this valleys scene,
with broken squares...

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Cloaking misty hills and many a deep valley floor: 
The empty Moor presents an outlook, stoical and dour.
Seemingly barren, this mute guardian of history,
Emits an air of arcane intrigue and darkest mystery.

Stunted Jack Pines, seen...

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Chorus
Slope of his promises he traverses
he turns out to be a diplodocus
having plans not concrete and disjointed
his words alone sent flames to the burnt town
we had hope to fly, now can’t even trot.

1. Perfect in...

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The morning has started with a trace of a dew
An ascent through the tussock ignites the new day
Trailing huntaways eager to work on the ewes
Awaited shrill whistles loose the dogs on their prey.

A new shepherd...

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Moth
In a kingdom full of ants
The splendid spider spidering
Deep into that darkness frogging
Death shall bring candlefish
It threw its ghost against the grubs

Deep into that darkness frogging
Death shall bring candlefish
It threw its ghost against the grubs
That...

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Thunderous silence in fresh mountain air
Dragonflies land on a mirrored flat lake. 
A trout breaks the surface with but a swirl
Hushed morning stopping to rolling vast cheer.
Eight boats of rowers united in curl
Sixty-four faces combined...

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I envy those living as part of the wild
For I too, once heeded its call
A smoldering ember since I was a child
Urge, and belonging all part of the thrall.

I’ve enjoyed the fresh taste of a...

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Fiordland

Fiordland !  Fiordland!
The name that resounds again and again                         ...

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Slow, slow
Stop, stop
Here, here
The tree
She hobbled between 
The Tussock grass
Toward the tree’s
The biggest, tallest
She made for
She stopped half way
To look
Look up
At this tree
Tall and brown
Thick with Bowe
The oldest of these tree’s
She hobbled on to this...

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To embrace
life’s analytic myth
to inspire
nature’s symbolic smile,
to manoeuvre
amidst northern skies of blue
to roam
chauvinistic contours sensitive and true.
To perceive
inclement purple haze that rebels
against the moor side mist,
to dwell if only momentarily within
a dream upon
“Windgate Nick” Where...

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Bright sun lit the sky and I lit a joint
  and the mood was gay and our spirits free;
when headed for the coast, Te Arai Point,
  on that long dusty trail through Forestry.
Back...

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In the dell the trees are old,
grim they are and obstinate,
they persist.
Higher up on the slopes
silver barks and slim trunks
reach and stretch, light
is their mood, and young their growth.
Further still,
A few mountain climbers hang on...

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Written: January 22, 2024
            _________________________________________

I hear the wild cry as I sleep,
no roaming goats or gulls or sheep.
Tire them out, no trace of dread...

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I am a tussock, lying alone
Alone on the ground, unfound
Mating the solitude, some pebbles and a stone
I am a tussock, lying alone
Wind carries me in its lap
Make me witness, mountains and seas
I touch veins, falling...

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The opaque mist
hangs buoyant; taut,
a stubble veil infects
an ancient craggy face, 
and currents of blooming
heather lay nonchalant along 
the old Roman road.
Here I stand in retrospect
motionless as the frigid sun 
begins to blend, a place...

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(An Addingham poem)

The venerable mist
hangs buoyant; taut,
a stubble veil upon
its face, when currents
of blooming heather lay
along its ancient purple race.
Beneath I stand in retrospect
motionless as time begins to blend,
here where one should feel privileged
to negotiate...

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The purple race the tussock face
heather dwells in delinquent mist
fresh the morning waits to embrace
as the sun’s rays break to enlist.
For you are there my summer rose
against the wind your grace unfolds
nothing there is like...

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