A moonlit whisper drifts across the strawberry field, where the night’s small wonders gather for their secret celebration.
A Magical Mushroom Party
Did you hear — on the grapevine about the magic mushroom party? The local fungi have peacefully impregnated the neighbourhood strawberry field and all moonlit buttons are welcome. Grab an umbrella and your gumboots, bring your own spores and a watering can.
…join the cheery clan, there’s plenty of toadstools, and the soirée’s fairy rings of our magical and mysterious land have conjured up the old Beatles band.
And as the fairy rings keep peacefully humming, the old songs rise again beneath the glowing caps of night.
In the hush of twilight, a pink glow threaded the treeline — a hint of the hidden realm where fairies hover above the causeway, chorusing something tender and otherworldly
Beyond the Pink Horizon
Deep behind the trees’ silhouettes and beyond the horizon’s pink curtain, in that ambiguous twilight zone there lies an earthly paradise — a glimmering crimson kingdom where our magical, luminous fairies hide.
And I wonder: where is the missing archway into this purple-haze never never land, or is it simply reality’s mysterious causeway calling me through the transient light.
Through the transient glow, the fairies’ lullaby drifts across the horizon.
Today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in July 2022) is drawn from my third book, Until Eyes Hear Sound. It appears in Chapter 5: Observation, Until Eyes Hear Sound.
A Torn Thesaurus
With my fiddle and riddles Here in the middle Of this unopened universe Time spirals in reverse
Quills fly in from cyberspace As alien words unravel and interlace A torn thesaurus is my database I wonder Have I landed in the right place?
Today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in August 2023) is drawn from my upcoming book, Time Hears No Sound. It appears as the first poem in the Fairyland section of Chapter 9, Humour, Fantasy, and Fairyland: Timeless
Where Have The Fairies Gone?
Deep in the enchanted woods Under mossy rocks and water-reeds I saw an iron-bar prison door Lying over a cave in the dry creek bed
I wondered and yelled out “Hello! Is anyone down there?” Eerily, a gentle voice whispered “Do not worry, we are sheltering here.” “Why are you hiding?” I inquired “We are waiting for humanity to stop the carnage on our planet.”
Then, peeping up from lower in the chasm I witnessed that the small luminous eyes Of Earth’s guardian faeries Were joyless and crying
Music/Video: by Sigur Ros, “Ylur”, translated means, Warmth
Deep among the forest’s magical trees Where the rowdy snails do as they please There is a secret garden for frolicking fairies Their cabbage patch is made from layers Of interwoven autumn leaves and bee’s knees Spread upon leftover leprechaun sleeves
Here, the sprites flit in on the breeze With an occasional wheeze and sneeze Sometimes the bold winter freeze Gives them an overfriendly squeeze And you’ll hear the fairies squeal in Sinhalese
It’s another hot day here in Geelong, and after our early morning walk, we have been inside avoiding the heat haze. I’ve been writing, and Frankie has been snoozing. The heat haze seems to have sent my computer into a discombobulated maze!
There’s No Exit (a Tanka)
In a daze, I gaze At my screen full of X-Rays My mind is ablaze Analyzing the next phrase There’s no exit to this maze!
Please Note the featured photo and attached photos above are taken from Street Art in the Geelong CBD
A Blade of Light
Far beyond my darkest night Clambering out of purgatory’s deepest void I grasp onto a single blade of light On the edge of my soulless asteroid Who rescues me from Armageddon’s endless fight
Awaking in a pool of sweat, just after midnight This meaningless nightmare gave me a hellish fright
With my spaceship’s sails full And the spinnaker pulling us west Our journey around the world Will be an expeditious adventure Navigating our way over polluted oceans And above war-ravaged ground
I’ll be confirming, first-hand That our planet is, water, green, and round And not a flat contaminated compound
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 