Passing the “Hope & Autumn” sign on my walk, I felt the season’s promise falter in the dry air.
Hope and Autumn
We are leaning against the barren trees with only dry grass below our knees, Summer’s gasping ground cracks still zig-zag across the track. Autumn’s relieving rains did not eventuate and Winter’s ominiously waiting at the gate
Hopefully, before the coldness begins, nature will forgive us for our sins.
“Where stories wait for rain, even here, among the books and dry leaves, the morning held its breath.”
Featured Image Above:The image is a photomontage of my computer desk, a Pandora Box, and my imaginary space craft, ‘ITMIMS’ (Ivor’s Time Machine In Micro Space)
Hello, dear readers and followers. I contribute to Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) every second week, and I’m delighted to share that my latest poem,“Email Overload,” appears in the new issue. You can read it by following the link below. >> Email Overload – Coffee House Writers
As the sky deepened to red, the day’s meaning settled softly around us.
Over at Weekly Prompts, it’s the weekend of the month, which means it’s time for the One-Day Prompt. Here in Australia, it’s that One Day of the year when we commemorate ANZAC Day. To visit the Weekly Prompts site, please click on >> Here
Lest We Forget (a Haiku)
Twilight’s blood red sky Quietly reminded us About ANZAC Day
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?
“There’s a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in” … Leonard Cohen
“The sky cracked open for a heartbeat, and the light played its own soft melody.”
Through the Widening Crack
Twilight’s canopy of clouds eclipses the evening sky with an embracing violet shroud.
However, the squinting sunlight was silently trying to wave goodbye through the widening crack above the sun’s transient eye.
And there on nature’s colourful curtain, I saw columns of light ascend the nebulous mountain; then I wondered whether I was witnessing the world’s grand celestial pipe organ playing a lullaby to the purple night
At our Dome group meeting, Jen — our chairperson — said, “I’m not here next meeting, so we need to choose a theme for next month.” A few of us laughed, and someone replied, “Well, I’m Not Here sounds like a theme in itself.” And just like that, the idea settled over us, light as a wink.
The Geelong Library and Heritage Centre … affectionately known as The Dome.
This image shows someone holding three cups and the cups are made in the image of a woman’s face. The expression on the three cups are slightly different from each other.
I’m Not Here
I’m not here — I’m in limbo, behind a solitary glass window, there on the north side of the Dome; it stands out like a fairy’s magical home.
I’m not here, but I am somewhere high above the Gingko in the fresh air, where I hear the fairy Godmother’s vacant chair whisper haunting poetic quotes by Voltaire.
“Life is a shipwreck, but we must not forget to sing in the lifeboats.” ~ Voltaire “The right to free speech is more important than the content of the speech.” ~ Voltaire “Many are destined to reason wrongly; others, not to reason at all; and others, to persecute those who do reason.” ~ Voltaire
And still, from that quiet window in the Dome, I’m not here — yet somehow feeling at home.
Somewhere between presence and absence, the music carries what words can’t quite hold.
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 