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Jane Ashfield Poem
Dusk On the Murray River
A crimson red blanket hangs over the river, shrouding its steep muddy banks.
This is dusk on the Murray River, the Mississippi of this great land.
Fifteen hundred miles of slow-flowing water linking state to state and ocean to mountain.
What secrets do your Cod and Trout hide as they navigate your murky waters?
Night arrives quickly here in Echuca.
Dusk is brief at this place which means meeting of the waters.
Overhead Sulphur Crested Cockatoos gather in their masses, screeching their way into my thoughts as they swoop around me.
Darkness falls
I want to stay out as late as possible, delaying my return to a budget hotel with a kicked-in door.
My room in the Caledonian hotel is one of the worst places I have ever laid my head.
The grubby stained carpet is as brown as the river.
Unease comes over me as I try to settle on a lumpy bed.
Sleep will not come
I feel unsafe looking at the kicked-in door.
The sound of the birds fills my head.
Copyright © Jane Ashfield | Year Posted 2022
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Jane Ashfield Poem
Apples
Smooth round and regular
Bountifully filling orchards with unforbidden fruit
A symbol of all that is wholesome and healthy
Stability body and mind
Copyright © Jane Ashfield | Year Posted 2022
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Jane Ashfield Poem
The Wrist
Bears the watch marking time
And moments sublime
Shakes the hand to impress
And flaunt success
Deftly bends to play the notes of staccato
And trills of vibrato
Takes the pain
As drugs enter the vein
Radial pulse strong and steady
Then later thready
The rhythm of life eventually ceasing
Unleashing, cut like a knife
Copyright © Jane Ashfield | Year Posted 2022
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Jane Ashfield Poem
Gravy Slave
Her eyes now dim, lustre lost with worry and age.
What will today or tomorrow bring?
More assaults to this already tired and worn body.
She used to say, ‘Old age does not come alone.
No, it comes with disease rampaging through cells, taking with it function and purpose. In its place are left pain anguish and decay.
One hand holds on to the side of the gas cooker to steady herself as she stirs the gravy.
Years of her life lost to this task, melting away like the lumps in the gravy.
Copyright © Jane Ashfield | Year Posted 2022
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Jane Ashfield Poem
The Rose
Soft velvety petals. Light and delicate
Tenderly nurtured by loving hands to create a bold appearance each year
Your strident colours marking the summers of my childhood
An aroma that lingers like the lost memoires of those endless summer days
Copyright © Jane Ashfield | Year Posted 2022
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Jane Ashfield Poem
Abisko Day
It is the intensity of the light I notice. Vivid autumn colours of yellow and gold bathe me in their warmth and brightness.
A deep sense of peace transcends. Can life really be this good. I feel protected. Fears and worries subside, replaced by a joyful sense of being alive and well.
There is no fog dulling my thoughts. Movements free without pain. This perfect moment. The sound of nearby water running over rocks. Otherwise silence and the pure brilliant light
Copyright © Jane Ashfield | Year Posted 2022
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Jane Ashfield Poem
Tick Tock
Like the ocean tide you are constant and unchanging
A secret observer as you look down on us with your face of two hands
Marking the comings and goings of all who enter this place
Sad times, happy times you have seen them all
Your presence always indifferent
Tick Tock
Copyright © Jane Ashfield | Year Posted 2022
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Jane Ashfield Poem
Summer
I do know that the Summer of our lives is short
Lost in a confused whirl of ecstasy and disappointments
Crossroads encountered with paths hastily chosen
Will it be left, right or stay put?
There is no going back
I do know that Autumn follows Summer
Mellow days now
Opportunities less but richer
Time is precious
Now that Winter is approaching
Copyright © Jane Ashfield | Year Posted 2022
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