Gill England

Time wasted

I love you as if time was running out
As if I had just seen a pretty shroud
In a garland of spring
Gently descend into the warm
Maternal earth embrace.
Could we grab in haste
As much wonder as possible
In the scramble of
Hot summer hours?

"Any time not spent on love is time wasted"Helen . . .

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May 20, 2014

The valley dreaming

This world has tenuous membranes.
One glass bead poised on a grass tip.
Mist hanging in suspended animation.
What’s real is of no concern
in this dripping in-between.
A sudden shriek
of orange lichen and kea wing.
A mis-placed step
and the scree slope beneath subsiding
deludes us that we are awake.
It . . .

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April 27, 2014

Church care roster

Tell out my soul
the wonders of Brasso
as the cross, flower vase
and offering plate
are polished in this
last remnant of ritual.
Rubbing away the pock-marks
to reveal a face
of disbelief.
Candlesticks will flicker
and glow warm tomorrow
when the people gather.

The cleaner tut-tuts to . . .

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April 27, 2014

Mint creek

In the early days
Before us , even
Shirley and Mum planted
Mint
At the headwaters
Of our little creek
It grows rampant
Amongst its alpine
Meadow companions
Surviving the snow
Jumping up flesh-green
In the spring thaw
A tough sweet
Surprise
For the dried
Peas
Instant mashed . . .

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April 27, 2014

Daughter helpdesk

Hands knotted and gnarled
as tortured cherry blossoms
that have seen too much climate.
Having nurtured and parted from
rows of knit and pearl
a child, a husband.
Fed, washed, clenched
in an arthritic ball
of frustration or worry
over her surviving loved ones.
Hovered now over the laptop.
And I have . . .

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April 27, 2014

Centennial Orion

The coal stove and I
have reached an uneasy truce.
On Day Two, she began to belch
black smoke throughout the hut.
Like a petulant child
she would not respond to any attempt
to pull herself together
and burn a clean flame.
Smoke poured through
one broken top-plate.
Day Three, heart full of forgiveness,
. . .

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April 27, 2014

Damn you, Robert Frost

Damn you, Robert Frost.
Can I not at least
try this 4WD track
Crudely blazed by some cowboy
In the regenerating bush?
The way is plain.
Why does there always have
To be a struggle?
But no. Here I am
Looking for markers.
The absurd slide and stumble
Over cold rotting logs
The sweat and grasp
. . .

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April 27, 2014

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