Four colours mingling,

chasing each other…

…playing leapfrog with crickets.

Round and round through picket fences

until energy merges us all together

and we leap through the purple door…

connected, tired but happy.

Julie Fearns-Pheasant

the colours are mine

two brushes,

f o u r colours

look for f o u r

strong marks on the page

good to paint

fun to do

creating my individual artwork

just f o u r you

Sally Clarke

I can see you

under that tree

while Autumn’s breath

sighs all around you

scattering leaves

sticks and

thoughts.

Where do they go?

Maureen Sexton

WIND

Caught in my depths

As I twist with flare

Pushing a painter’s palette

You may touch me

But you’ll never hold me

Or contain my power

Whipped into a frenzy

Only fiery debris marks where I go

Outward, upward

Hear me roar!

Tanya Jaw

Big Pie Recipe

Take equal amounts of       ability

            accuracy

                        pace

anticipation                                                 

heart

add a touch of tagging

and a dash of favourable  decisions

mix well together with

a large dollop of passion.

Quantity enough for one football team.

Val Neubecker

pie in the sky

my heart's afloat with

candy coloured dreams

for you

reach in, touch one

my sky is full of

apple berry pies

for you

reach up, take them all

Christina Gammon

A charm of emu chicks peek

and peck among riverstones

as bright as their curiosity.

White butterflies wonder.

Jan Napier.

This collection of hers

of stones and wire

of broken threads

         still connecting the loom to the weave

How would she explain these words falling black

across this billowing white sail

in her music of found objects?

Nathan Hondros

Animal Journeys

We all walk the same

burnt line of sand,

snake a path along

a well worn track.

We all take the same

journeys in our time.

Shingle-backed,

silver-winged,

fur and skin.

We all live.

Paula Jones

farmyard versus

my fields grow foxes who

coup chickens at night

, bloody a path of

destruction by moon bright

glistening maws which

pluck feathers bald. my

shotgun can smell them

, is hungriest when i am

slumbering. cocked, it is

ready to farm them cold

Scott-Patrick Mitchell

The Night

The night reveals its true colours in good time

the bits it wants to let you see

staccato  lavender and Rorschach

it is the graphics of desire and all its rooms

We can but peer helpless through its minimalist windows

this is not its fault but its raison d’être

its teases us to erupt out of our dutiful day and

celebrate ‘do not go lightly’

Christopher Konrad

COCOON

The caterpillar

cocoons itself

away from the

world of light,

to grow its wings,

emerge in sunshine,

discover

f r e e d o m

a s                   b u t t e r

 a                          f l y.

Mardi May

Nelly’s gathering gumnuts

seed strewn symmetry

maybe in bellies of birds

escapes the frame

A tender composition

Nelly hears the music

then a gentle gesture-

presses softly into clay

Amanda Joy

We give thanks for eucalyptus trees.

Torquata, whose brilliant spring flowers dazzle us;

Silver Princess, whose graceful bending with the wind

teaches us perseverance;

And grey-leaved, red-blossomed Macracarpa, holding proud and strong.

We give thanks for their wood, which forms and furnishes our homes;

for the artistry in their limbs, bark and nuts;

and for their healing oil.

But most of all, we celebrate their power to endure the fire

and bring forth new life.

Trisha Kotai-Ewers

Friend

Lick of flame draws

the landscape

pitch black all round.

Days without you are like

the charred remnants of wildfire,

then I see my smile lift

your face in golden splendour.

Our friendship

glows the red of fire.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

Autumn leaves

Autumn leaves

like Mahuika's flaming finger nails

fall and brush the water

burnt-out summer floats away.

I dream of a glittering winter but

no snow falls.

Carol Millner

moss on rock

bush before bloom

leaf lacing

early morning light

each spring

grows green

old growth

inspired by sun

Andrew Burke

The night presses down, thick and heavy

blanketing the hills with steel wool clouds, kernels of dew

waiting for Dawn to arrive.

She does not disappoint; singing connectedness

in golden tones, bathing the hills

banishing the night with Hope.

D Micallef

The Paradise Tree

My brother and I loved Fruit Tingles

and once in a while by a decree of miracles

found a single lolly made of a blend

of all the other colours and scents

We loved these rare mysteries but could not guess –

till we glimpsed the Paradise Tree – how it was done

You must fold in joy with gentle mischief and

add a generous splash of fun

mix together with rainbow hours

then distil the essence of paradise flowers

Dr Liana Christensen

Rainbow Tree

God said

Gardener let there be

A tree but not just any tree

Watered with love it will grow

Rainbow leaves and I’ll send light

From heaven so it can shine

And all who gaze upon it

Shall be blessed

With

Happiness

Dean Meredith

Red Hummingbird

answer me this puzzle,

if I hold a yellow Hibiscus

to my chin,

what will I see

reflected there?

Sue Clennell

It all depends

on a cup of tea

a red bird

yellow flowers

and you painting

in the garden

under a blue sky.

Maureen Sexton

Summer days drawn to gardening

deftly scurry rivulets to furrows

across granular tumblings.

Flowers watch, tête-à-tête

with gentle whisperings carried

on the breeze, leaf to leaf.

A rustle, a hustle as the day

wanes to remembering.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

Friendship

Golden whisper drawn with

fiery breath to banish the black.

Our lives merge above the dark,

flow into fiery tones  as our friendship

grows beyond the spilt ink

of our lives.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

EDGE OF REALITY

Is this reality or a dream –

are things really as they seem?

Red and black pigments merging

asymmetrical shapes emerging.

A crater lake of burnished gold –

an Inca myth, so I’ve been told.

             Vivid imagery -

              the edge of reality.

Meryl Manoy

     a butterfly’s wings

sunshine that got

left behind,

not taken back in,

not Glad-Wrapped

for tomorrow,

swathes of it,

waiting

to light night’s pages,

unfold a butterfly’s wings

Kevin Gillam

DANCING WITHOUT STARS

Jailhouse rocks and midnight black

pelvic pulses to strobe searchlights –

probing for the runner.

He’s cool, man,

scaling the perimeter fence and

dancing away without stars!

Max Merckenschlager

Hi Gavin, they’re auctioning Trigger and Roy Rogers,

But you have already collected them

In blazing colours, and moving Eastward,

Along with Buffalo Bill bringing the West to New York.

We still need that range riding, rodeo buckjumping, yodelling,

Six gun tooting, lassoing, cowbranding to remind us that life

Should be open and free and blazing the living daylights

Like yourself, moving around, walking, swimming,

 and cycling and singing along with Presley .

Peter Jeffery OAM

My Horse

I ride my horse along the path.

Mummy walks behind.

I am a big rough cowboy.

Gee up, Dobbin, I sing

and stop to pick a flower

poking though a fence

and slip it in Dobbin’s mane.

Laurel Lamperd

                      Forever

Her garden holds the beauty of a lifetime.

Spring upon Spring that sees no ending,

for the pansies grow at her command,

dressed in colours of her choosing.

Those flowers will last beyond today,

for when the winter’s breath blows cold

they will endure the bitter season

like a treasured memory.

Peter Rondel

PUFFS OF COLOUR

Hello, Cowboy! To the sailor, Ahoy!

There're colours to be seen all around

Deserts - bright red - or stars overhead

A visual feast abounds

Her purple jacket, his green tennis racket

Lots here at home and in town

A new yellow statue, Oz flag backed in blue

Many more, there are, to be found

We love the colours, on cars or in puffs

But laser-show colours, can not be touched

But regardless of what we can or can't do

We enjoy it all. Enjoy very much!

Julienne Juschke

SPRING IN WINTER

high branches catch the first sun

like the birds, who make the dark leaves

alive with sound and the air

with new colour

i watch galahs flaunt pink to crimson

as they teach the swoop and dive,

others brave the chill from eucalypt

to eucalypt     alone, in sibling pairs

rosellas settle scarlet onto grey denuded branches

and not a word of too-soon, spring in winter

Alistair Bain

COLOURS

What colour is a dance?

Is Rock ’n Roll the

same colour as ballet?

Piano keys are only

black and white,

but notes play together

in a rainbow of sound.

When an artist paints

a tune with music,

every colour sings

with its own bright joy.

Mardi May

I love my car 9G,
Her ducco is blue,
And if I don't crash her,
She'll love me too.
So I'll polish her daily,
Always feed her clean fuel,
She will take me for Pepsi,
Together we’re cool.

Coral Carter

Roaring, roaring, racing by

Racing under an Aussies sky

Foot planted, he soon passed

Flying along in racer fast

Watching, watching, buildings pass

Flashing in the windows glass.

There goes his name -its Gavin!

His blue racer had a big win.

Gavin's work needs no correctional

He is a painter quite exceptional

Colleen O’Grady

Dobell went walking under a blood red sun.

Humming as his brows dripped sweat from hot, humid waves,

his brush blotched and baked behind his ear.

‘Van Gough would have liked it here’, he thought.

Reaching for canvas, Dobell began a sky, a yellow merged mirror…

…and the sun twirled in pleasure

as another artist was painting him.

Julie Fearns-Pheasant

I dreamed I rode a magic carpet

raced wide winged birds

around the sun

whirled and swirled through

bright summer clouds

laughed proclaimed my joy

out loud -

it was such fun

Liz Nicholls

Floral Notes

Floral notes float on by

like the butterfly attracted

to her sweet Spring song

Natasha L Adams

Twins

If I could put these two into paint I'd say -

Look! There they go making a red and orange bee

line for that plate of cookies on the left.

Now they sit like splodges on their nappied bums

gobbling bright green apples, cake and then...

they're off again -

their baby button-through singlets hanging down

like tails.

These two are tropical birds chortling on the telephone wires.

Carol Millner

Tropical waters

Fish lapping around the tank

Aquatic disco

Debra Ratcliffe

Carousel

The carousel flicks colours

on its roundabout journey.

Children drawn to the spectacle

gather in garlands of colour

mesmerized by the jaunt of music

round and round in their head.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

Sun peeks

thru dazzling red sky

Joins me with rays

of blue fingers of light

My space in the realms of visual art

stepping among musical notes of delight

Saz Campbell

I start with a brush

see the strokes, purposeful.

then,

fingers itching for more

colour engulfing

I squish hands into paint.

Oh!

how I love

the squelchy gooeyness—

see the difference.

Sally Clarke

Vermillion Wind

Painting the sky with earth’s shades

Of darkness and light

Debra Ratcliffe

Butterfly Dreaming

I, Great Green Caterpillar,

am considering breaking my earth-thread

to leave all that brown ground

that egg-messy, seed-spattered spot

though

these fiery buds tempt me to stay

these yummy green leaves

where my feet have been

I’d find hard to leave.

Jenny de Garis

Kicks

Imagine swaying in the crowd

the shout mounting around you

as the teams march on to the ground.

You fly like the ball

with their kicks, kick up your heels,

let rip, power your voice, give it your all

to urge your heroes straight to the goal,

their limbs rippling like the flag you fly,

your rave reaching the sky.

Jenny de Garis

PICTURES

I see pictures in Blue Poles

the painting they said Jackson Pollock

poured paint over canvas.

My painting is Blue Poles.

See the birds

the curl of their wings against the sky

flying low over the dry lake

towards the sun.

I want to go with them.

Laurel Lamperd

ROWBOAT, REEF AND ME

Lacy fronds of ruby red and gold

spin and swirl a gypsy dance

as Jenny lies across the bow.

Sliver fish of silver beckon –

join our game of hide and seek!

But ocean currents, cold and blue,

shiver down her mind.

Jacqui Merckenschlager

watch, listen, feel

watch waves of water curve, curl

crash clear blue

swirling into frothy white,

sun sparkles through

listen, to gulls gripe and

squabble for scraps, scavengers

chasing childrens giggles

and guffaws

feel crisp, cool air diffusing

golden warmth

Christina Gammon

POET TO PAINTER

This ode is here intended to convey

appreciation of the painter’s art.

Brushstrokes of colour on his canvas say

as much as words upon a page impart.

Creatures of the forest-green woodland

emerge out from their cover into sight –

waiting, watching, peering all around.

The mind interprets how we understand

just what the artists paint or poets write –

a multitude of viewpoints can be found.

Claire Grose

Cows.

They are separated from me by barbed wire;

linking the white picket posts like telephone wires.

I do not wish to consult them.

They are happy enough without me anyway.

Eating the sunshine in the grass I allocated,

larking about in the mud.

They do not care if anyone is watching them.

I’m watching them.

Caked in mud

Karen Murphy

My People

My people walk the shores.

My people lacquer under the sun.

They read the stories of the dunes

riddled with words of dreaming.

My people wander this hard earth

as they have done since it began.

And when the music starts,

they dance.

Paula Jones

FOOTPRINTS’ SOLO

Ludwig van B had them dancing feet

the beat, the rhythm

grab up your baton, your blank lines

to make music on

the sun bears down curious

to see what we have made of heat

syncopate time, put our own stomp

on earth less delicate than its spin

Ludwig ranging the pounding heart

looks in and smiles to see our footprints' solo

Alistair Bain

Glide

Can you see me soaring, wings outstretched, riding thermals?

Dip and glide, dip and glide

I am Eagle, I am Swan, I am Crow, Parrot, Dragon and Butterfly

Dip and drift, dip and drift

Feathers, scales, filigree lace

I see you looking at me,

Wheeling around, gliding, dipping, soaring

I am airborne, air born

Born to glide

D Micallef

A Father’s Love

... is thicker than blood

it removes all doubt that the next colour

you lay on that palette is as true as  blue of sky

it is as thick as primary and just as indivisible in the place

he and you make wonderful, mysterious and new

together is the only language we know

the only speak that makes any sense in the drab of day

Christopher Konrad

Happy people at the station,

all ready to board the train.

Laughter and colours of fashion,

the holidays are here again.

Sandra McAlpine

For our planet

We give thanks for the planet on which we live;

for its rambunctious seas, home to leviathan and shrimp;

for its skies of azure toned to grey; dressed in clouds;

and the glory shows of northern lights and sunsets.

We give thanks for soil, both rich dark brown and pindan;

for the minerals which build plants and bodies;

for rocks that call the body to climb

and mountains which soar the soul aloft.

We give thanks for that thin, thin rind of atmosphere

that makes all this possible.

Trisha Kotai-Ewers

Emerald green leaves

chased by ruby and sapphire

Petals in the wind

Debra Ratcliffe

Shimmer

Glimpsed in a softened focusthis

dance of smallest things

Sharp arcs that vibrate fast

found in grass and sky

when glisten of wet has left

dance us along a path

to you

Amanda Joy

Sun/Flower

Sun sing up the flowers

from a broad grass green

powder of yellow pollen

from a sleek stroke of stem

Sun sing up these flowers

split the tiny seed pods

all this preciously ticking

inside of everything

Amanda Joy

Mardi gras! Mardi gras!

Stomping near,

stomping far

all the family dances

a mardi gras

Andrew Burke

Yeah!

My keyboard looks black and white to you

Take my hand I’ll show you a different view

My fingers teach me to see inwardly

Music touches all the smoky hues

of my soul, each song my heart strings

But if you do not feel the things I do

And cannot hear the glory of my singing

Simply look at my painting then you will see

the multicoloured beauty I am bringing

Dr Liana Christensen

In 3D

Do colours feel as they extend

From my hands to brush’s end?

I think you’ll feel that you know me

A little better when you see

How I‘ve woven paint, applied

The colours dab and stroke and line.

Feel                the landscape of my art,

Don’t just view and stand apart.

Touch the moulded, sculpted paint,

Search out the landscape              of my heart. 

J.R.McRae

Friends

in this field

daisies remind me

of sunflowers

tall beside the railway

your footsteps

tilling my dreams

colouring the wings of my smile

Rose van Son

May I always think

as a child,      and

dream of golden fish

and red snapdragons,

mouths agape.

I will work the latter

like finger puppets,

to have my say

on the world.

Sue Clennell

Butterflies

A flutter of butterflies erupt from flowers

flicker and flash in multitudinous hues

to greet my passing.

Reaching out I gather their colours

in my hands, on my fingers.

Carry them home

to daub on canvas

for  your delight.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

The Monster

In the dark outside my window,

the monster’s tail trickles down—

I think the News was wrong about the rain.

They said that it was clearing;

we should be glad it won’t last long,

but I don’t think that clouds are all that bad.

They have sunshine dripping through them.

And if you could only see,

that behind the dull grey suit all monsters are full of sunshine—

 just like me. 

Karen Murphy

   one pond

a mind with all of the

bright ideas yet to be netted

the sky scraped clear of

planets and suns

envy and jealousy circling

the sea of acceptance

five poppies, four daisies,

one pond

Kevin Gillam

Red, yellow and royal blues

are really happy and cheery hues.

They’re three colours of the old rainbow.

They lift your spirits.

You won’t feel low.

They’re really bright and all ablaze.

They all remind you of “Happy Days”.

Caroline Sambridge

Something from everyone,

each one

a precious piece

created with

love and care

the treasure

stored safe;

iron gates barred

while an angel

keeps watch.

Val Neubecker

Just mucking in together, having fun,

Like someone said, ‘Simply messing about in boats’

Your mural  lightens each other’s load -

A heavy gate in strokes swings on a post of gold,

And lightens  what might have been a dark muddy field

With razzle dazzle flowers of sky blue, daffodil yellow,

Flaming red poppies, and even Geraldton wax,

And talks of more paintings in the coming years.

Peter Jeffery OAM

A gift of Lilliums

as aromatic as a perfumer's dream

tells of champagne, pearls, cardamon nights.

She picks up his picture,

sets it next to the flowers.

A smile buds.

Jan Napier.

FIREWORKS SPECTACULAR

Amazing! Wow!

Did you see that one?

It flew up so high

Boy, I'm having such fun!

Woah, that was bright!

That star burst of light

Now it's all done

So that's it for tonight

Julienne Juschke

you, against us

we are movement. our

hearts pebble car parks

as train’s conduit. all i

dream off on my way to

work is you, naked &

warm, still flirting with

dreams & the night just gone

. in the press of rush hour

, i imagine myself pressing

, tender & urgent, against

Scott-Patrick Mitchell

The Paintbrush Dance

What is joy?

I think it’s paint,

Today.

I love the splash the colours make

When colours play!

Don’t you love

The dancing way

The brush’s move

Makes colours stay!

J.R.McRae

Ponderous Sky

Opening day of nature’s ballet -

As blushes of pastel tutus twirl

Waterlily clouds float dreamily

Pondering such surreal displays

In a garden theatre full of colour

Where earth and sky touch secretly

And life gives little shining glimpses

Of beauty sweet so often fleeting

When night’s curtain finally falls

Artists may bow to hearty applause

Dean Meredith

Beautiful flowers floating on high,

Like they were clouds up in the sky.

Lilting, lifting spreading perfume,

They transcend purity in all gloom.

Their beauty is darkness dispelling,

Enhancing surrounds in any dwelling.

Laurie shows us a special gift

His painting brings us quite a lift

Our spirits soar up to the sky,

His beautiful painting helps us fly.

Colleen O’Grady

An awkward shuffle, a laborious

crawl across sandy beach.

Steps delayed by time

vanish with the kiss of waves.

Burdens lifted on unseen hands

a caress that flows across hardened

shell with each deft flick of fin.

A graceful dance vanishing

everyday clumsiness.

Some days, I am a turtle in water.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

TURTLE

I’m GURGLE the green turtle, my home is in the sea

My head is non-retractable,

my limbs are most adaptable –

flippers are more use to me.

An endangered octogenarian

I’m completely vegetarian.

Some humans think a turtle clumsy, so I’m told,

but as a swimmer I could win Olympic Gold.

Those who see me in the ocean often say

“If only I could swim like him some day.”

Claire Grose

Prayer Hands

my prayer hands take me

to a sacred space

a gentle place

where sweet psalms flow

candles glow

I find peace

I know

I belong

Liz Nicholls

Sunlight breaks through the clouds

and I know He is listening.

I send these prayers like doves

in to His light.

Natasha L Adams

Together

my hand printed for you

to find me, guide me

as we walk in meadow springs

I reach into my pocket

break a chocolate bar in two

give to you that special piece

on teal plated blue

we float as if on air

sharing friendship as we do

Rose van Son

On the palm of a hand

a life.

See the lines on my hand, see the

colours that swirl and mix.

The red of love, the gold of treasure.

Hold my hand and I will share

my world with you.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

Hands of time

Sculptured in laughter

Set in clay

Myriad joys

Speak here

Of reconciliations

Of friendships

Of many things untold

Saz Campbell

I paint my laughing figures

along the plaster

fault line

balancing from upright

unstable, trying to dodge

shifting tectonic plates

long legs stepping

over the cracks

running for safety

Sally Clarke

FAULT LINE

Salvaged and framed,

my clumsiness is displayed

for the world to witness.

I wear your criticism

and derision bravely,

yield not to your sarcasm

nor shed tears for pity.

I am the strong one here.

Max Merckenshlager

my world

whirl-wheel

ochre eyelashed

into circles I can fathom

cool pools of

blue-grey coils

unspool

like this season

autumn running

prolific into spring

Jenny de Garis

Dalai Lama

"Practice compassion."

"Come from your heart," he says.

Exiled, reviled, lost to his people,

he sends exploding mandalas

of forgiveness and love

to his enemies.

Jan Napier

OPAL-EYES

Aeons of dark silence

created my lustre.

I listen to

your thudding pick,

gauge the moment

before the gouge

when eyes will meet

in arid Andamooka.

Max Merckenschlager

Pint On Paint

Sensational! flick of the wrist

                                and a dapple

Describing colour is difficult

we drag in such large objects

to these delicate spaces

so much gets lost

In the green of a lake

                      a glimpse

of  leaf might drown

fire engine red worn

by a dragonfly is crushing

in yellow must be found

particles of sun

this limitless generosity

of colour

this dance of paint

                              on paint

                                   on paint

Amanda Joy

Foodies like to cook a cake,

2 layers filled with cream.

The easy part is to mix and bake,

now to choose the theme.

It’s the icing that tops the lot,

but there’s a problem with my green.

All those pink and yellow dots,

could change the colour scheme.

Sandra McAlpine

Beneath a tree

in paradise gardens

flowers bloom kisses.

Hidden birds

sing Grace.

Insects tremble

worms worm

deeper.

Coral Carter

I see a tree and the sun

and remind myself

of sleeping in the park

then waking at 6pm

but still warm somehow

and watching leaves above me.

now, hauling myself up

in the cold I recall.

and think of a tree and sun.

Nathan Hondros

Night Sky

There is a symphony

in the wide night sky.

Aurora Borealis composes

swirling songs of the universe

showering down like meteors

of colour and celestial light.

When I look up at the sky

I hear music, music

like a fanfare

like a bell.

Paula Jones

       A myriad

A thousand sunsets

stirred into the end of day;

horizons melted into one

upon his waiting palette,

like the colours of a dream

sung softly at the edge of sleep.

Peter Rondel

Spaghetti Bolognaise

Food for the heart

all wiry al dente

all slurp bloop bobble and splent

suck it in that marrow

down it with a red

slither slip lick and shred

I luv it I luv it

Parmesan tomato a family of aromas and taste

Dribble drop flicker and eaten with great haste

Christopher Konrad

blue sky

tangled branches and thoughts

sun breaks through

Meryl Manoy

NIGHT AND DAY

A symphony of movement,
strange creatures twist and twirl
above the firmament,
while others dance and swirl
like jocund dervishers
let loose in merriment.

Down below, the sun’s rays show
a new day has begun.
The creatures of the night now know
their time for play is done.

Claire Grose

We give thanks for the blessing of spring:

when we float on bird song,

dance with the sprouting grass

and bask in blossoms.

We give thanks for the warmth that returns to the earth,

and dissolves the aches and pains of winter;

and for the sap that rises

in plants, in animals and us.

Trisha Kotai-Ewers

fireworks

fireballs dancing

across night sky,

forge sparkling

reflections of

celebration

jubilation

exultation

Christina Gammon

Sunset and Sunrises

I like to sit out on my deck chair

and play eye spy with God.

I like to watch the sky cradle the sun.

Inside they turn the lights on, and it all

looks unchanged, but outside the

Halo’s shared with everyone.

Karen Murphy

a salad of late nights

and girls with red lips

send your kisses back

‘biding my time

drinking her wine’

clouds bedevil

the green sheets

of nature

in a story too bold

to be told

Andrew Burke

Blown kisses ride the ocean,

bouncing on the waves.

Seaweed sways with the motion,

as fishes flit through the haze.

Corals dip and weave their heads,

hints of orange, yellow, blues and reds.

Sandra McAlpine

The Caterpillars Learn to Fly

The Buddhists say

‘As it is’

So why wait for

metamorphosis?

The caterpillars minus

a leg or two simply

took to the yellow sky

and flew

Dr Liana Christensen

Red Rain

Rain drifts against the window

moves downwards in red streams,

dries in the north wind.

Eddies of red dust

blow away the clouds

as the community prays for rain.

Laurel Lamperd

'Oe nana makahehi

how attractive you are

ko'u ipo

my lover.

I will place a lei of sharks' teeth

around your neck,

to prove my devotion

and strength in the water.

Sue Clennell.

AUTUMN ON THE WAY TO CHURCH

Liquid amber clothed the icy path

and the whole world sparkled.

A teasing breeze tickled the golden elm

and five leaves shimmied to the path,

circling God’s collection.

Jacqui Merckenschlager

Grandma’s Curtains

A drift of flamenco skirt to flash red and gold

swirls across the canvass with ruby kisses.

Adrift on a sea of crimson dappled

with sunset’s golden reflections that waver

and float away  like grandma’s curtains.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

rain down 

blood red kisses

resurrect desert green

Coral Carter

REFLECTIONS

Peaceful shimmers on cool, crisp waters

A mountain pond; a sunset beyond

A water lily; fish as they feed

Ev'nig hues produce orange and red

The picture's perfected

With the clouds reflected

Then the birds tuck themselves

... into bed

Julienne Juschke

   the hurt

as if terra-firma and

a smear of cirrus have

lifted just one hour

of the world’s anger

and stitched a

tarpaulin from it,

knitted a scarf,

left wisps for thinking,

given the hurt

a purpose

Kevin Gillam

Creatures of the deep

Far below the ocean’s face

a world of creatures lives,

to catch the sun in colours

that only sunshine gives.

They swim among the coral there

in brilliant reds and shades of grey,

where men may visit for a time,

but know that never can they stay.

While the artist paints that beauty

in his own artistic way.

Peter Rondel

Let's go on a picnic -

somewhere cool and green

we'll take chocolate cake

strawberries  ice cream

I'll bring my guitar

we'll eat laugh and sing

come -

join me my friend

Liz Nicholls

Ivy Leaves

Trunk packed

Green with ivy

Tree leaves

Dean Meredith

Brontosaurus happily

walks through this

sparkling forest - you

can come too mum -

where butterflies and

Bluebirds flit

about under white

feathery clouds.

Maureen Sexton

Angels pat the air, set calmness

amongst the scurrying as dinosaur

tramps and mangles the vegetation.

Most days I swim my anxiety away

smile with friends and laugh

when no one is looking.

But some days I am a

dinosaur.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

Follow me

Golden blooms

Pollen explosions

Love floats in my garden

Like butterfly kisses

A lizard lingers

Along my footpath

The miniature dinosaur

Coaxing me back

To where it all began

Tanya Jaw

The Theatre of Colour!

If I could dance,

Maybe ballet,

My body and my feet would sway

Just this way …

Swish, swish, side to side

The whole stage wide!

Make a wish!

Filmy skirts and coloured bows,

Stage makeup and hair just so!

Don’t you just LOVE it though?

J.R.McRae

Colours

Shift and slide

From side to side

A paint brush glides

I smile inside-

When paint and paper do collide.

Catherine Szathmary

Free fall

Free fall of colour like a shedding of leaves onto
water in Autumn/ or when a tree is given a good
shake a little too early as raucously as any flower
bursting into life in a garden/ or painted nails
dancing across a canvas to dazzle like splayed
wings of a beetle/ or words shared fast between
strangers in a crowded room  at night/ or a yellowtail
flashing through the river as if spinning/ or other tricks
of light

Exquisite bloom to blur in watery ripple of brushstrokes

lit up with the shapes of other things.

Amanda Joy

Electrical fields

pitched thoughts and sonic voices…

…musical tremors that jump, beating frantically.

Rocked, running and riled…

Beat it. Enjoy it…

(…Beethoven’s got nothing on me.)

Julie Fearns-Pheasant

Colour and images cross the screen,

Multitudes of sticks clearly seen.

Gay and riotous where they fall,

Like a game of fiddlesticks and all.

Red and blue, green and yellow.

Tim is really a remarkable fellow.

He paints, socializes and does work

And all activities he doesn't shirk.

The colours, the images cross the screen

His skill as an artist clearly seen.

Colleen O’Grady

Music drifts through the wind chimes

by my window, clash delicate tones

to spring touches of white onto

blue, purple and pink. Swirl and

cascade in wondrous sound to

smile my eyes, lift my lips

to sing.

Sitting by my window

people don’t see the

lively step I dance.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

It was a dark and blustery stormy night.

The cats all hid and the birds took flight.

It was very choppy out at sea.

It really wasn’t the place to be.

The storm lasted for several hours.

The rain did wonders for the flowers.

By morning the sunshine had come about.

It really made you sing and shout.

Caroline Sambridge

A sunny day;

along the fence

petalled faces

greet me

look up

expectantly;

they brighten my life

lift my heart

and make me smile.

Val Neubecker

Wallflowers

If you only took the time to look

it is the Wallflower that warms

the Winter heart

Natasha L Adams

Sirens have stopped,

the tow truck gone.

Vivid amidst the pindan,

a scattered chaplet of roses,

a snapped garter.

All that remains of their love.

Jan Napier

Under the sun

On red dirt

My storyline snakes

Saz Campbell

fastening

fire flames beneath

rippled ponderment

. each fish flicks

golden equation

beneath surface. con

-sumed, i am alight

. inspiration ignites. i

scale depths, hungry

. fin, i am, from

contemplating

Scott-Patrick Mitchell

how better for my celebration,

release into non-working life,

indulging my passion to eat—

spaghetti, spaghettini,

fettucine, slithery, slippery,

delicious pasta, lasagne,

bolognaise, tomato, parmesan

eating Italian with friends

finishing sweetly

with luscious chocolate

Sally Clarke

                       RAINY DAYS

Bus window fogs;

I hunker down inside.

The world drifts by

in a blur of bodies,

beating the next sharp

shower to the button

and crossing quickly

for shopfront cover.

Max Merckenschalger

This is a concert!

Laser lights flash

blues rhythms vibrate

golden notes bounce

from electric guitar

in a purple haze

keyboards dance

and the crowd cheers

for the smiling boy

on the bongo drums.

Maureen Sexton

Sounds clash in black and blue

as the air reverberates to the primal beat.

Hands pound the taut hide with gusto

drawing every syllable, every tone

with a richness of gold that scatters and dusts

the outstretched hands in eagerness.

Drumming carries me away

awakening the primal urge as my body

sways to the rhythm, fleeing after each sound.

in the silence between beats, I find myself.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

Swirling seaweed

          Submerged in salty sea

              A snake swimming

                      With me

Tanya Jaw

Waves of grass that beckon welcome

swim through my dreams.

Butterflies in glorious colour kiss

each flower, dance delicate breezes

scatter clouds across brilliant blue.

Give me a place of open streams

fields to the horizon kissed with

winter green to spring alive,

to smile this country girl.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

Swan Valley View

Outside the restaurant -

a plate of colour

blueberry sky pie

marshmallow yellow flowers

strawberry butterflies

on a bed of

spearmint leaves.

Maureen Sexton

Flutter, flutter

Sweeping colour

Burst forth

Crimson wings

A flurry of flames

Over cool

Sticky stems

Dancing

Til the sun

goes down

Tanya Jaw

I hadn’t met nor even

seen her,

except that she’d

laid out

anonymous paint

in colourful eyes –

so what else matters?

Nathan Hondros

I ask you to imagine

For a brief glimpse of time

The glory of the moment

In which creation arises

From the blank page

Catherine Szathmary

Imprinted

impression in red

gentle smudge from the left

wet full stops to a gesture

caught

and held

like a bird

in a sky

Amanda Joy

Bushfire cloud gradually shrinking.

Dancing ash floating, fleetingly

faced off and feral…

…each ash whispering memories of vocal tears and torn fingers.

Moving within cloud dimensions the ash changes colour and shapes

until the redness enfolds and embraces the bits…

Stronger, angrier and thicker.

Crimson weeping cloud.

Julie Fearns-Pheasant

Life on Mars

The red planet burns

sulphur hot and steaming.

Is there life bubbling

in the spheres of lava,

in the black rock?

Things we never imagined.

A flaming ocean?

A sizzling shore?

Paula Jones

Kaleidoscope

Inside my head...music...gentle, swirling butterfly notes

fill the air like petals.

Words are colours are words

not heard, but seen

 floating in hues of amber, sunflower and sky.

A rainbow of words, a polychrome of sentences

a kaleidoscope of song.

D Micallef

Brother

Time with you is a rainbow wave                      

it is light as a spectrum kite

I am lost in it , with it and through it

In our world time is a country

not a minute, a day, a month or a year we might meet

because no matter how soon or how far

we will always reside in that place

it is book shared, a song heard, a game played

so long ago in a land we co-created

Christopher Konrad

HANDS

In friendship let us all join hands

a touching communication

a way in which to understand

without conversation.

No need for words, just wear a smile,

a countenance that’s beaming

is recognised throughout the world -

has universal meaning.

In friendship take another’s hand

this will help us understanding.

Meryl Manoy

We give thanks for friendship:

for the hands that greet us,

clasp us warm and close,

caress and comfort us.

We give thanks for the hugs of friends

that fill us with love and peace;

for the smiles of strangers

that warm the heart and lift the soul.

We give thanks for friends

who walk beside us through life.

Trisha Kotai-Ewers

Field Painting

Curlicues of colour

loop through, garlands

gathered by a grouping

of hairs that make a brush

held in a hand whose

soft pulse quickens

as long strokes of green

form a field the eye can

run through like fingers

through hair flocking

to a smile of joy

expressed by a brush

tipped with colour

Amanda Joy

EAT YOUR GREENS!

A mould of inaction

may grow on your jeans,

but stay in your seat till

you’ve eaten your greens!

Max Merckenschlager

below ocean waves

tentacles of

marine life

sway

bluefish salad

Andrew Burke

Rainbow Blessing

Mother told us God brings the rain

and we listened all night to hammer

of incessant rain on the iron roof;

the water tanks brimmed and the wind

flung frenzied bunches  of tree leaves

at our dark windows to thrash our

dreams. Yet we must have slept

at last for morning came with

rainbow’s blessing bright upon us.

Glen Phillips

You run…

slipping, sliding

through just-wet grass

launch yourself

through the air

elude rocky outcrops

to slice down into

the warm embrace

of ocean currents.

Val Neubecker

blue-green jewels

cries from the ocean

refugees

Dr Liana Christensen

They Call Them the Grasslands

We came to Mongolian

Grasslands in full summer.

Rivers looped silver in

Broad pastures. Horses tossed 

Their manes in brown herds

In the face of storm clouds.

It is freedom that brings

All these Han tourists here,

Amazed to find white yurts

In grasslands unconfined?

Glen Phillips

Tibetan cloth fragments flutter

on a desolate plain, or is it

laundry stretching across a cobbled

alleyway in downtown Rome?

Colours spark, thrust, and burn

into memories.

No coincidence the history of nations

is recorded on flags.

Sue Clennell.

Her bronze skin with its rosy tinge

hints at hidden passons.

Strands of red bright and fine

as Pele's locks sear across

the sea of her self possession.

Unchecked creativity fashions

a plaid of opposites.

Achieves balance.

Jan Napier

The Exam Room

Students like a sheet of stamps

seated in multi-hued ranks

bow their heads to booklets

and bite their stubborn pens

between chattering teeth. Then

the world moves on. They write.

Glen Phillips

In My World

With eyes to dance

and fingers to talk

I will smile your face.

Walk in my world

where words are mute

and I will share eternity

in the brush of fingers,

joy in the sweep of hands.

With colours of fire and gold

I will share sunsets yet to come.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

Dance Step

I’m in the party mood

swirling vivid red

dance steps flicker.

Will the music ever stop?

In your breath

music swings like fiery dance

Can you hear the music too?

Rose van Son

steampunked

charles dickens clears his

throat to regale me with

facts, stating it’s the soot

mixed with sunset & gas

lamp which bloodies the

sky as such. that, & man’s

hunger to burn god from

heaven. i laugh & reply ‘

please, sir, i want some

awe’. 

Scott-Patrick Mitchell

Sun Blood

Sometimes it seems when you stop

the car for sunset’s grand

curtain-call in red desert lands

you sense it’s a redshift moment

in the universe on that red road

in that blood red car.

Glen Phillips

   imagine

imagine,

running to stand still,

sun in its corner,

friends and flowers and

fresh cut grass,

all the joy daubed on,

bliss of brushwork,

watercolours stopped running,

Imagine

Kevin Gillam

haiku for Jane

in my garden

I grow flowers

and friends

Mardi May

Making a mosaic one fits bit by bit

To make a magic glorious whole.

So too, the bright sun

Moves each flower to stand by one another,

And the clouds line up perhaps to bring the rain,

Or to soften the intense summer blue

With their fluffiness and bring up

The dancing green of grass as  a soft carpet

For us to lie upon and dream.

Peter Jeffery OAM

MORE TO MAKE

            Mister, I’m not a boy; no, I’m a man,

            and I believe in a promised land.

                                                Bruce Springsteen The Promised Land

We ride the sun.

People say we're dreaming.

We've just begun:

we're not even streaming.

Our colours rise,

the annuals of spring

blaze and surprise

the eyes that hear them sing :-)

To those who shake, deny what plainly flows -

we've more to make: unstopped, our brilliance grows!

Alistair Bain

AUSSIE BEACHSIDE BBQ

Aussie, Aussie, Aussie! Oi, Oi, Oi!

We don't like the mozzies, but the Barbies we enjoy

The mozzies do not matter, there is still lots of fun

Lots of noise and chatter, and hamburger buns

Sausages and steak; filled to the brim

Must then wait a while, 'til go for swim!

You find that your smile, is as big as your head

Then that's it for a while, as it's home now to bed

Julienne Juschke

Sky floats on cream clouds

Between each tree, life is free

magnificently

Debra Ratcliffe

Summer smells waft on the seabreeze

cling to the sound of laughter

with carefree abandon as bodies

spread in homage to the sun.

A congregation of humanity

stripped to swimming togs

in all their imperfections.

No one hides, no one cares

in this place of no boundaries

away from the cells of work.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

The sun is our Aten

and we, sandwiched together

to sing his praise,

receive his rays

of kindness and affliction,

like that of any other god.

Sue Clennell.

Smiling at The Sky

How sun touches skin

sings its way in like a smile

silencing tongues with warmth

bodies are stretched to receive

bent like a shoreline by water

the arching of backs realigning as

pleasure falls upwards with a giggle

salt crackle deposited in the rocks

winking back with soft stings

of light/      of light/      of light

Amanda Joy