“the sea crowds its silvered children back and fourth under the moon” “what part of land has not been the sea bed” “the quality of …
“darkness and rain an ancient feeling” “words of the river swarming here, in branches of mangrove” “to dry land, water returns tong…
I feel the breath of life call from the sky / As silently begins the dawning of the day…...................
The eerie silence cloaked / The morning’s lovely mask
They blow away mist and lift all the dark / And bring a smile to your face…..........
The silence now is deafening / What do I fear the most?.......................
The Fog Was So Thick I Could Hardly See The Trees / The air was very still there was not even a breeze / It looked as though I was standi…
Thank you Frederick for the awesome photo that inspired this quirky poem Please check out my friend Frederick’s awesome photos and poems on the RB /
So He whispers gently in our ear / Peace be still / open your ears and eyes to Me / I will guide you back to safety
Mist was rising from the fens, faint tendrils twisting, curling, folding into fog. The lights of the village huddled on a small knoll fad…
A very strange love story…
Caleb was in the field / The fog so thick he could barely see / Charlotte riding her stallion / This made her feel free Caleb thought he …
SharonD and I wrote this poem and SharonD did the artwork..it was the first time on / RB that I had ever collaborated on a poem and it was great fun..Sharon and I intend / to do others..Thank you so much Sharon.. / / Please check out my friend SharonD’s other artwork & writings on the RB
Hear them whispering, telling me stories of long ago …
I wrote this poem in 2005 originally to be included on a commemorite DVD put together for a family reunion. The poem was influenced by my love of Kurrajong Heights and the old family property there at Panorama Point (the highest point) and the many happy years I spent there as a child walking through the huge old pine trees on the property and sitting at the lookout staring across the view of Richmond, Windsor and on to Sydney. Often the view would be blocked by a thick fog and as a child I believed that if I stepped off I would be able to walk on them – as the day went on, the fog would steadily lift until you could walk through it and then it would be gone – until next time. This is all gone now – the property closed and overgrown and the old home bulldozed to the ground. My biggest joy is to still visit as often as I can, climb the fence and sit amongst the trees, staring at the view – its then I can feel the old days welcoming me home!
Slowly the light comes to me, / grey, purple, white, yellows swirling softly and gently around me / Nothing is clear, I twirl around in hop…
*I felt chasm / a deep crack / the window is open / I felt I was being dragged into a whirlpool of emotion / the heart was covered in a thi…
Geir Floede thanks!! The stair to nowhere its awesome!!! /
*_restrict freedom / surround with a fence / divide one belief from another with a fence / divide one heart from another / fenced with barbe…
On The Fence love this!! linaji thanks for this awesom piece of art my friend!
Imagine nearly a tonne of live horse flesh pressing against a tiny 30kg….not an equal fight.
I am interested in some constructive criticism please on this writing, as this is the first time I have written about some of my early life in this manner.
hair twisted and skewed / from hours spent, / in our passions cry, / Why? / Grey? / You?
TOTALLY INSPIRED THE MINUET I OPENED UP ARLETTA’S WORK / Shades Of Grey Reborn /
It is quiet and lonely on this blanketed path / Only fogbound benches witness me pass / I yearn for the warmth of a cheery hearth
The AWESOME Roy Barry posted this stunning art Fogbound Benches / and drew forth these words from me! Chookas! ♥
The boy closed his eyes before stepping into the forest. He knew what darkness awaited, and did not want it to seep beneath his lids. The…
Thereupon Zarathustra walked again for two hours, trusting the path and the light of the stars, for he was a practiced night-walker and loved to look in the face of all sleepers. The valley of the sleepers is a term borrowed from Friedrich Nietzsche’s ‘Zarathustra.’ #4 / #3 / #2 / #1
walking in the fog / a sea of lost souls / lost their way / forgot their roles / memories of the past / happier times / forgotten by them / no r…
Collaborative work of Roy barry & Sally Omar / / Foggy Promenade / Please check out Roy’s other awesome artwork & writings!!
Wispy tendrils of fog
I love the shrouding effects of fog as it applies to our clarity of mind and to clarity of vision.
Moon and Mist / Forest of Trees / Path is Bright / Can you Find Me? In the Light I am Weary / But Very Strong / In Heart and Soul / I will F…
wrote this too go with my painting called Mystic Path.
The stillness of God / Seemingly hidden
A bit of the spiritual side… I wrote this after standing on the back deck for a few wonderful moments this morning… AMEN
There is no such thing as lemonade, on an Ocean day.
No matter where you are…whether by the sea, or landlocked by mountains, Ocean Days will visit you, and they will be a most welcome arrival.
The light is turning golden… I’ll lock the door / and barricade the windows. The days are drawing in… I’ll build myself…
Autumn poem
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