Ballarat Road

Western Highway cruise
Brod Smih's Dingoes and sunshine
Bitumen and blues.

Empty Song

Tonight I can't write

The song which rests on my lips

Rings not in my heart

Snared

I remember how
Snared in silky long black hair
I dreamed I knew love

This Side of the Island

This side of the island
Waves wrap around the point
Clouds drape themselves in sunset
Somebody lights a joint
Wood crackles on the campfire
Laughter wakes the winter night
First chords struck on a guitar
We'll be here 'til first light

Shoreham, 2011

Displacement

Have you ever seen
The ocean in an egg shell
Then the yolk's on you

Wet Window

Through tired eyes and a window pane
I stood and watched the
Falling rain
Many a drop ran to its end
Finding a puddle with which
To blend
And lose its individuality
A victim of conformity

Others clung and held their shape
But they fell to a different fate
The Sun appeared
And boiled them dry
Is it better to conform
Or fry?

Frankston, 1981

London

Abu Dabi text
London still a day away
Memories abound
A hand rests on the covers
And awaits love's kiss goodbye