The Rain Keeps Falling

It’s early morning around my desk, it’s peaceful,

The summer heat still hangs in the air from the night before,

The sound of pouring rain dulls the songs of early birds,

The garden drinks its fill, after several hot days in the sun,

The rain falls harder, and the tin and concrete roof tiles hiss,

The sun has nowhere to go this morning,

Bashfully hiding behind storm clouds,

Perhaps feeling guilty for the previous day’s temperatures,

I sip coffee in the white glow of my screens,

A car hisses past the house, a lone weary driver starting their commute,

I soon hear the engines of other cars kick over in the distance,

The world is waking up, and the rain keeps falling.

Sleeping Awake

Awake, but still dreaming, his eyes open to the sound of an ocean,
Unable to move, paralysed, his bed is afloat on a vast churning sea,
His face is cold and wet from wind and ocean spray, as he drifts,
The bed is unsinkable, it rides atop undulating waves,
As it mounts the crest of an enormous wave, the ocean falls still below it,
The waves quickly dissipate, and the bed comes to a halt,
Now in still waters, the bed finally begins to sink, falling away from him,
Leaving his buoyant body floating unaided on a waveless sea with no land in sight,
The sun rapidly falls, and is replaced by the brilliant light of a full moon,
After what feels like an eternity, his body slowly begins to sink,
As if gently pulled below the water by invisible hands,
As his face submerges, the water surface freezes over instantly,
His paralysis suddenly releases, and he begins to struggle, fighting for his life,
He is pulled along by an undercurrent, as he bashes against the inescapable ice layer,
Panic washes over him as he battles to access the air above the ice,
But he soon succumbs to the cold and the water, his body floats motionless,
His glazed eyes peer through the cloudy ice, up at sparkling stars above,
As his body begins to silently sink down into the black ocean depths,
His arms and legs float up before him, as he plummets into the deep,
All light eventually fails, but he realises something isn’t quite right,
He becomes calm as he realises that there is no longer a need to breathe,
He slowly rolls his body over to face the ocean floor,
As he sinks, he faces a black nothingness that disappears in all directions,
He continues his descent, as countless time passes,
Far down in the inky depths below, he can see an orange light glowing,
He closes his eyes and allows the weight of his body to carry him down to the light,
Upon opening his eyes, he sees light pouring from the mouth of a massive skull,
The gaping mouth burns with an unnatural flame, that engulfs him as he enters,
After passing through the enormous burning cavity,
He’s now surrounded by the cool flame, and he continues to descend,
His speed increases, as the underwater flames lick at his face,
The cavernous space narrows into a small opening ahead,
He manages to angle himself enough to pass through it,
He soon feels himself burning through light and time, before being regurgitated,
Spewing forth from a giant waterfall, that spills into a fine clear lake,
After an ungraceful landing, he swims for the shore,
As he pulls himself on to the stoney bank the ground begins to rumble and shake,
The earth begins to collapse around him, landscape and lake fall into nothingness,
A desolate world being swallowed by a black emptiness,
The ground gives way beneath him, and he tumbles into the darkness,
He falls screaming, his face is peppered by surface remnants,
This new descent lasts so long that the cool air has time to completely dry him,
Suddenly, a pure burst of white light erupts from below like an explosion,
He averts his eyes to protect them, but the brightness engulfs him,
Now blinded by light, his spinning fall comes to an abrupt stop, and he opens his eyes,
To find himself staring at the ceiling of his own bedroom.

Kingdom of Ancients

When I close my eyes, there’s a place I go,
Far beyond the dreaming sea,
Where the calm still waters ebb and flow,
And ancient druids call to me.

There’s a great circle of sarsen stone,
Arranged to greet first solstice light,
Where ancient secrets of the earth are known,
And shared with followers draped in white.

In a lake of wonder a lady sleeps,
Clutching a sword upon her breast,
The water hides the tears she weeps,
Waiting for her King to begin his quest.

I open my eyes, and I’m back in my own skin,
I no longer feel the sickly weight of panic,
I’m calmed by my kingdom of ancients within,
And my thoughts are now less manic.

The mystery dreamland calls me now,
As I try to stop my eyes from closing,
I write this verse through furrowed brow,
Time to sleep and stop composing.

Excalibur the Sword by Howard Pyle (1903)

Wreckage

A morning sun packs early heat, high in the sky,

After a dark night of wreckage and ruin,

Another mother mourns the loss of a son,

As crows cry for carrion on the green roadside.

Country of the Wandering Mind

My morning mind is lost in dreaming,
Wandering forests where the creeks are streaming,
Where the Wurundjeri Woi Wurrung people reside,
Across a sprawling ancient countryside,
Through forests up to Camels Hump, above the Geburrh ranges,
And back down to Ngannelong, or Hanging Rock to visiting strangers,
Where Kangaroo’s live in grassy fields, and their mobs all peacefully graze,
Along-side foreign livestock who eat away unphased,
By these original inhabitants who gracefully bound around,
While the laugh of Kookaburras, fill the valley floor with sound,
My mind wanders home again, across open farming lands,
Back to my own small town, where my tree filled sanctuary stands.

The Daydreamer’s Gift

Today I sat on the bank of a cool forest stream,
And under lush green tree ferns, I began to dream,
That I lived in this forest wild and free,
And my home was the trunk of an ancient tree,
I spent the day searching the forest far and wide,
Returning home that night to comfortably hide,
And admire the jewelled treasures I’d discovered,
Then, the next morning when fully recovered,
I followed the stream right up to the mountain,
Where from its rocky edge a waterfall fountained,
After drinking its waters and healing my soul,
I read magical words from an old paper scroll,
I thanked the mountain for its bountiful gift,
Before sitting quietly to let my mind drift,
To get home I imagined that I’d shrunk down so small,
That I could float on a leaf, powered by the waterfall,
I was delivered home safe, gentle and true,
With a leaf for a boat and mountain stream as my crew,
When I opened my eyes to the real world once more,
I smiled seeing tiny footprints, and a leaf on the shore.
Forests have a special magic, and as this daydreamer knows best,
They’re a good place to put imagination to the test,
So, lock up my daydream in your mind like a jewel,
And may your trees grow tall, and your waters run cool.

Starfall

Falling from the distant stars through time itself,

Into the deep cool waters of an ancient land,

Lost to all memory, a forgotten numen beneath the waves,

As eons pass the subsiding waters form a vast wasteland,

Miles of desolate emptiness, and beneath these ancient sands of time,

The star fallen sleeps, imprisoned within the dark restraints of dreams.

Ode to Springtime

I’m thankful for the springtime,

And how it brings our garden to life,

The morning smell of eucalyptus trees,

Its dewy mornings and its warmer nights,

Afternoon sun showers on freshly cut lawns,

The colour of the flowers makes me love it even more,

The songs of busy insects and the brightly coloured birds,

The sounds of springtime in the country are the best I’ve ever heard.

Below the Queen Tree

I cross my front garden to my favourite tree and sit down,

She has a thick leaning trunk and a beautiful green crown,

Soft grass at her base, welcomes my feet like an old friend,

The queen tree is the kind, a younger me would often ascend,

I’d climb to the top and feel the sun on my smiling face,

Above the world in her castle, my secret green hiding place,

Times have changed, and now I must admire her from below,

My bare feet in the grass, and the greying face of an old fellow.

Path of the anxious mind

Forest walking,
Self talking,
Rain falling,
Birds calling,
Breath taking,
Hands shaking,
Alone feeling,
Strength stealing,
Anxious being,
Death seeing,
Tree crashing,
Claws slashing,
Teeth biting,
Beast fighting,
Blood dripping,
Mind tripping,
I’m dying,
Anxiety lying!