RAIN

Rain

Dusk
A stillness
Palpable
A presence that
Hangs heavy in the air…….

The promise of rain

Heady intoxicating Jasmine
Lily of the Valley
Delicately perfumed
Lemon flowers
All releasing this question …..

Will it rain ?

Birds seem to think so
As they twitter in the darkening trees
Yet you, or me
Don’t
It happens so infrequently
Like a long ago memory
In childhood dreams
Rain
Will it rain ?

MA. Spring 2015

THAT ONE THING

THE NEXT THING…..

ALWAYS pushing
Rushing
Scrambling forward
To the next thing
That you always
Wanted…

That
Thing

Did you find
It there
Amongst the
Blank despair
Of
All
That
Hurrying???

Stay with what
You
Love the
Most
The
Holiest
Ghost
That One thing
Above
The many
Was there ever
Any
Doubt
About it???

Stay
Oh Stay
With the One
You
Love
The perfect
Hovering
Dove
Sink
Down
Deep
And in the
Sacred time
Of Dreaming…..
Offerings
Come
Trickling
Then
Pouring forth
Unexpectedly
From the gods…..

Stay then
If you will
Drink your fill
Stay
Oh stay
With that
One
True
Thing

MA. Spring. 2017

WITH GRACE

With Grace

I like the way you move
Body in harmony with the earth below
Balanced and graceful
Slow…..slow
Like a dancer
Or a master of Kung Fu
You move me with your cat like poise
You…..You……
I like the way you move

And when you lean towards me
My body stays so still
Its my will…..my will
Keeping me there
When in my stillness
On this chair
My soul self unwinds
Unbinds, lifts up
Towards your chest
Rests there …..rests……
Arms coiled round you
Around you
Nestling in your smell
Heaven and Hell
I like the way you move me

MA ©️ Spring 2014

IN THE CAR PARK


IN THE CAR PARK

“Look … I know it seems outrageous, weird, but before we do ONE MORE THING, you have to sign this” …

He looks at me in disbelief, eyes the legal document with suspicion and distaste, shrugs his shoulders and turns away … but I reach out to him, hold his arm.

“Imagine how it is for me … a single older woman living in a small, deeply conservative country town. People will talk … they always do … and I barely know you.  I understand this seems cold, calculating … but I have to be.

I want you, you know I do.  Just sign the bloody thing will you???  For me!!!”

He shakes his head, his lips tight, shoulders stiff, then takes the document from me, a “non disclosure agreement “, reads it.

“Then, whether you feel like it or not, when questions are asked, and they will be … I am protected.  And you, all you will have done, is give me your word.”

He thrusts it back, won’t look at me, lips tightened in a thin line.

My heart flutters in my chest, but having come this far, I can’t give in.

He has to see how badly I need this very small gesture … a symbol of honour.

She’s learned at her peril, the idiocy of taking people at their word.

“All right … give me the fucking thing”,  takes a pen from an inside pocket and signs his name, hands it back to me, wordless.  Then I take his hand, kiss his fingertips, pocket his promise and ask, “When?”

Then he laughs, grabs me tight, whispers against my mouth, “Now.”

Fear floods me … waves of heat and cold, desire and an overwhelming need to run away … too many years, too long alone, feeling nausea … and the treacherous mind chants in my head “So, so stupid, so deluded.”

But he’s still there, pulls me back into him, stroking my hair, and as suddenly as it has come, the terror is gone.  I wrap my arms around him and whisper, close against his chest.

“Thank you … this means so much to me.”

Excerpt from “Breaking Taboos – An Erotic Fantasy.”

MY GREAT GRANDFATHER’S HOUSE

WHEN I WAS a small child, when I was not at school, I spent my days living at the beach, or holidaying in the Hills…Idyllic, tv wasn’t even imagined….and in those dreamlike days, the idea of sitting for endless hours watching a screen would have seemed like wasting the day. In the big old two storey house, built by my Cornish Great Grandfather, us kids spent almost all our school holidays…..the neglected two and a half acre European garden, a children’s wonderland. Lavender flowered Rhododendrons up to 20 feet high…. huge Laurel and Pine hedges, the brilliant crimson of Japanese Maples….a long tunnel covered with Banana Passionfruit, water tanks, brimming with clean, ice cold rain water…
And the five enormous Oaks, below the second storey front verandah. Trees so thickly leafed, I could still stay outside in heavy rain, sitting beneath them, staying dry. A Weeping Elm, with an old tram bell attached to its trunk (who thought of this is unknown to me), but if that strange old bell rang out through the garden, we knew the faeries had been….that they’d left gifts for us kids. It was a very good time in my young life….losing myself completely in the wonder and mystery of the big, wild, garden. I still remember…..all those years ago, on a freezing wet early Spring day, passing close by a tree, and seeing the bright eye of a Thrush, sitting on her nest, right there beside me…..a moment of enchantment, seeing her there, so still in the dimness of her leafy shelter. Enchantment and Wildness…..looking into perfection.

SNAKE MEDICINE

ONE MORE STEP, one more breath……rested today after a long, deep, uninterrupted sleep, the first for such a long time. Contemplating Courage….the strange complexities and variations of it. Being forced to clean and empty my house (a compelling force that drives me like a harsh north wind), takes almost all the courage I have (and then some).

And yet, when faced with the dilemma of a trapped, deadly, Eastern Brown Snake some years ago…..I didn’t hesitate. Some garden netting I’d left lying in the bushland nearby, was caught in great ruffles behind the Snake’s head, slowly choking it. It was helpless and I felt responsible. So, with a prayer offered up to the Snake Clan, I knelt down, held it behind the head with my left hand, and began the long, slow process of cutting through the netting with a cheap, rather blunt, little penknife I always carried in my pocket.

The day was fiercely hot, filled with heat shimmer and the screams of cicadas and cockatoos…..the rescue process, dream like, as I bent to the task and continued cutting…..continually speaking to the snake, til the last few strands of net were falling away.
People talk about the Kundalini, rising up through the spine…..As the snake felt the net loosen, a powerful surge of energy shot up my left arm all the way to the shoulder….two more snips and it was free….but dazed and dehydrated it pushed forward into the pile of netting. Standing, I leaned forward, grabbed it by the tail, and pulled it free….a few powerful S-bends like a brown wave, and it was gone.

Drenched in sweat, fear hammering in my kidneys…..I stood up, drank some water, and went home.

DEATH OF THE TURPENTINES

DEATH of the TURPENTINES

They stand there, still
Stark, dark fingers of Accusation
Pointing upwards
Against a pale blue sky
“Look, they say
Silently
Look what you did to me”
Ring-barked for economy
A long slow death
Some would call it
Murder….
And the beasts
Below, who graze
Search endlessly
For shade

MA©️. Winter 2018
Memories of Nimbin, late 70’s
(Photos below of “What once was”)

IN MY DREAMS

“JUST THE TWO OF US, HIM AND ME”

I lean down to feed more sticks into the fire, keeping the heat high as the rich aromas of rabbit stew with wild onions, mushrooms and foraged greens fill our small cabin. Mouth watering. As the wind whistles under the eaves, I walk to the open doorway looking for him.

It’s a precious time with everyone gone momentarily, on business, hunting, visiting with neighbours, so, it’s just Jamie and me.

And there he is; the late afternoon sun casts a red gold glow on the sycamore trees, the leaves shifting and shimmering with the small breeze and, as I stand watching him, he turns towards me, his body outlined in gold as the sun sinks behind him, as the air cools, as he stretches and shifts the long muscled lines of his body.

I’m already wet with wanting……wanting him.

He sees it in my eyes, my smile, and leaving the plank of timber he’s been sawing, he carries tools back to the verandah’s sheltered shelves, puts them tidily away as I move towards him.

I can smell his sweat, the sharp scent of our earlier sex……
Intoxicating.

He gathers me in against him as I reach up to kiss his mouth, take his lower lip between my teeth, then, murmuring against his neck, “Come, food is ready, you must be starving.”
He laughs softly, “Aye, I am, but not for food, not just now, anyway “, and reaching down, he lifts my skirts, one big hand cupped around my waist, the other finds it’s way to the cleft between my legs.”

I cleave to him as he makes that small, soft moan deep in his throat. “Christ, ye’re already so wet”, and pulling me against him, he kisses me deeply, as I feel the laughter rising up in him, feel him hard against me.

“Eat later”, he says, and taking me by the hand, pulls me towards our fur covered bed. I can feel the heat of him.

My phone alarm rings, the harsh jolt of reality breaking through this beautiful dream, and yet, I can still hear the echo of his voice,
smell the strong male smell of him.
My face is wet with tears.
Was it really ONLY a dream???

DESIRE…Part 2

Desire…..part 2

In my dreams
He comes to me
Smiling
Wide mouth tilting
At the corners
Of his lips
I am ready
I whisper
He comes then
To me
Are you mine???
Truly

Eyes lit
From within
He smiles
Again
Lazily
He is ready
I can see
And softly steps
Towards me
In my dreams
No one else
But he

Skin on skin
Blood
Flesh
Bone
He reaches then
Touches me
Brings me home
In my dreams
There’s only
This

This one
This love
This fire
This light
This
Night
Without
Within
My man
My love
My richest sin
My kin
In my dreams
Only
Him

MA ©️ Spring 2016