A social site for poets in Sydney.
Tags:
Hi David,
Thanks for adding your poem to the site. It would probably be easier for everyone if we could see the poem without having to download the document. You could paste the content by editing this discussion. Sing out if you need a hand.
Best wishes,
Ethel
Christmas, 1974
Bell-birds tell us we are near.
We presume, seeing no signs.
Their she-oaked ventriloqual carillon
Heard invisibly all around as we walk behind
Quiet sun tall dunes.
Green nosed pigface makes juicy strands.
Pink flower flushes running
Along the wind piled white sand
Laying the soft track
For our feet.
Cicadas are shrilling the shimmer
Of all the air by themselves
And the mid-distant bananaed hills
Steam and wander under skies
Now darker than this morning.
Eighty degrees before dawn.
On our return
We will walk the beach.
Water wet-eyed arcs of sand.
A pillowed roar of surf and
Salted foam, the wide blue glare
On the way to the world.
And red-yellow clutches
Of Christmas Bells
In our hands and
Our house will ring with
Their bee-beautiful scent
Until New Year.
A nice rollout of pleasantness, Nice
D.L
Ah the tribulations of the newbie. And not a computer virgin but I'm yet to achieve competent citizenship such as that of the fora, blog, website etc. But thank you for your kind advice. Let me know please if I have it right yet.
with thanks
D. Croft
Glad I found this reply - I can't read .docx either
DR
© 2024 Created by Adrian Wiggins. Powered by