AUSTRALIA ~ The Antipodes

AUSTRALIA ~ The Antipodes
I love a sunburnt country / A land of sweeping plains / Of ragged mountain ranges / Of droughts and flooding rains / I love her far horizons / I love her jewel-sea / Her beauty and her terror / The wide brown land for me / ~ Dorothea Mackellar (1885-1968)

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Sunday, September 25, 2011

Empty Matchbox


Poetics ~ Say It Again, Sam

He walks so low in naked woes
The moonlight films his desperate way
The trees are armed with thorny bows

The wind of fears so softly blows
The sounds of midnight crimp his day
He walks so low in naked woes

His yesterdays were jewelled glows
The sounds of dreams seemed here to stay
The trees are armed with thorny bows.

The creeping hush of winter snows
Blue summer now will turn to grey
He walks so low in naked woes.

The creeping hush of gutted rose
Our summer boat becomes my sleigh
The trees are armed with thorny bows.

No more the joy of market shows
His little matchgirl whisked away
He walks so low in naked woes
The trees are armed with thorny bows.


7 comments:

Brian Miller said...

this comes together nicely in your final stanza each line playing well off the others...your final line is haunting and enchanting...

hedgewitch said...

Very nice villanelle, a form I'm very fond of. The imagery here is original and really adds to the character study--i especially like the idea of the moon filming him, and the trees armed with thorny bows. Last stanza is my favorite. Enjoyed it.

kez said...

Great poem gave of a lot of atmosphere within your words ..thank you x

Madeleine Begun Kane said...

That's really good!

zongrik said...

I was trying to imagine someone walking around in the woods, naked, all depressed and getting cut up by the low hanging branches. OUCH!!

Ann LeFlore said...

You have tied this so well together with each line playing off the other and the closing stanza bringing it all together thanks you for sharing
http://gatelesspassage.com/2011/09/24/loneliness-the-anger-of-lost-hope/

Spiderdama said...

Just beautiful photo and poem! So clear reflection.

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  • Autumn is the bridesmaid of Summer and the flowergirl of Winter ~ Gemma Wiseman
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  • Love is born / With a dark and troubled face, / When hope is dead / And in the most unlikely place; / Love is born, / Love is always born. - Michael Leunig's Christmas Song Cycle "Southern Star"
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  • Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all. - Stanley Horowitz
  • Winter is the fire, simmering lonely in the soul ~ Gemma Wiseman
  • Winter is the shadow, the etching of the seasons in the mist ~ Gemma Wiseman

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