New Zealand Poetry

His house was small,

a wooden affair

His front door greeted the nor-west

but it was rarely opened.

He preferred the small side entrance,

past a little table and dying geraniums

When friends called – and that was rare

He would be in the garden,

walking around and up and down;

past the vegetable garden he was going to put in;

the blazes of colour in the little undug beds

Sometimes, it was all too much; the idea

that a retired man should do too much

So he pottered: in the shed and out;

around the back and the front

Sometimes he sat is his car in the garage

or watched the wind rattle the poplars

Then he was gone

They said he went to town

for a better life;

It was there, they said, he lost his mind

sunshower, moon

i think
i’ve always
loved to
travel
most
at the edge
of the light

dusk

streetlight

dawn

sunshower

moon

a
stained glass
window of sky
through hay
in a fisherman’s
breeze

a bird’s
cry off
evening
waters
where
words are
more in
their

less

november 2017
moonbridge

four doves

that morning
of rain
the islands
hard adrift
in cloud
four white doves
on the shell
by the waves
coming
lightly in
flew off
out above the
grey washing
silver slivered
tide in an arc
wide as the sea
i tried to guess
what four
white doves
could mean
for me
on a morning
of rain the
land the cloud
turning back
the clock to
being as
one
upon the
waters.

19 june 2013
tamaki estuary

The girls laughed and heaped more sea-weed on the luscious pile
where Lavinia sat
They all had scuba masks and snorkels
It wasn’t that
That made me grin, just their glee and yelps in high pitch

The shore was busy with delight
all ages played and filled my sight with happiness
Waves carried brown bodies with boards
Paddlers knelt or regally stood
While others jumped the white tide
that foamed the ride

Murray watched from throne aloft
His chariot a van backed up to the beach
and there he grinned and claimed
”I love the Gisborne vibe” who could not
agree this jibe

Today I biked and bled into the water
my heat retreated as I floated high on top
and years retreated also, as my brain is soft
or so its said by others that avoid such fun
I will run them over with my love and forgive
them much

Joy from the simple games we play on beach
Laughter medics one and all
and we forget the sand that reaches creases
nicks our skin and
be filled with it all

The girls laughed and heaped more sea-weed on the luscious pile
where Lavinia sat
They all had scuba masks and snorkels
It wasn’t that
That made me grin, just their glee and yelps in high pitch

The shore was busy with delight
all ages played and filled my sight with happiness
Waves carried brown bodies with boards
Paddlers knelt or regally stood
While others jumped the white tide
that foamed the ride

Murray watched from throne aloft
His chariot a van backed up to the beach
and there he grinned and claimed
”I love the Gisborne vibe” who could not
agree this jibe

Today I biked and bled into the water
my heat retreated as I floated high on top
and years retreated also, as my brain is soft
or so its said by others that avoid such fun
I will run them over with my love and forgive
them much

Joy from the simple games we play on beach
Laughter medics one and all
and we forget the sand that reaches creases
nicks our skin and
be filled with it all

He peered through,

the dust infested curtain.

He recoiled,  coughed,

And resumed.

He focused his sluggish eyes,

To a couple of youth.

They approached each other,

From land to sea; they touched.

A kiss, a simple love;

A childish romance.

A tear trickled down the man’s,

dried skin.

Moments past,

He forgot,

The lovers outside.

A poem by: Origin8