Natures Glimpse-Archive 12? 2013

Natures Glimpse-Archive 12? 2013

Sun rays seep through the canopies of the trees. As the lush green leaves sway elegantly dancing with the warm breeze.

The air is fresh without a taint of pollution, just the scent of gum leaves fills the air.

The birds whistle their song. A serenade to Mother Nature.

An array of butterflies tango with one another, flying from one flower to another.

The tranquil sound of a flowing creek echos through out, creating a peaceful ambiance. The water sparkles like a million diamonds as the sunlight warmly embraces it.

In the distance mountains sit upon the horizon, each one with their own unique earthly structure.

Hopeful Gallop-Archive #9 2014

Hopeful Gallop-Archive #9 2014

On his horse-

He did ride-

Stallion with silvery mane-

Knight with silver armour.

On his horse he did ride-

Fearful eyes-

Saddened soul.

Determined he was-

To save his lovers heart.

On his horse-

He did ride.

With every gallop-

Hope did seem near-

And by her side he would be.

Many suns did set-

And many moons did shine.

On his horse-

He did ride.

Once at his lovers destination-


 the only thing around-

All that stood was a lone stone-

And withered flower.

On his horse-

He did ride-

Mane and armour-

Now tarnished silver.

Worn and torn both man and horse-

Now they wait for time-

Where lovers shall meet-

Once more.

A Grumps Umbrella-Archive #5 2015

A Grumps Umbrella-Archive #5 2015

When winter comes about, I see tones of black and white, for a variety of reasons such as the mute sky, the dreary weather, and the naked trees and the stand out reason being  that every bloody person seems just as miserable as me.  But at this moment most of the other misery guts have umbrellas, sheltering them from the winters piss, and of course for the fool I am I’ve left my black and white striped umbrella on the 740 tram. As I walk through the town each drop of rain that lands on me seems to be mocking me.

Ahead of me a sign reads; Cup full of Rustic an indication that hipsters are taking over the world.  In revolt to this hipster revolution I nonchalantly walk into the café and steal one of their newspapers.  Comfortably I walk back outside.

‘Excuse me, Sir,’ one of the hipsters yells out to me on the street.

‘You can’t take our paper,’ she said.

I wave her off, and continue my walk home. Winter what I can say it brings out the prick in me. That’s a lie. I’m a prick all the time.

I makeshift the paper into a rain hat, fashionable. No. Protection from the rain. Somewhat.   Beside me a tram pulls up, and an infestation of people roll off.  All of them focused on their journey home, the occasional person bumps into me and one little brat knocks me thus causing me to drop my make shift rain hat, which of course lands in a puddle.  The child looks at me. I stare down at her, I let out a little grunt. She begins to cry. I walk on.

Bobbing up and down in the crowd ahead, I see a familiar looking black and white stripped umbrella. Curiosity takes a hold of me and I follow after the umbrella. Certain that its mine.

The traffic light turns red, giving me the chance to be next to the stranger with this particular umbrella.  On the wooden handle etched in is the name Don. This brings me to conclusion that it’s my umbrella. A perfectly timed strong wind pushes past everyone, which cause the man’s grip to loosen on my umbrella. With one quick yank I take the umbrella which is rightfully mine.  Before the man can do anything I hope on 280 tram. The doors close, and the tram begins to move.  Feeling accomplished I wave goodbye to the dumbfounded fella who once had my umbrella.

Seek you -Archive #2 Nov. 2015

Seek you -Archive #2 Nov. 2015

Shall I seek you out-

In the midst of chaos.

For the darkness that lurks within me-

Also reflects in you.

Are we each others savior-

Or  each others tormentor.

If search for the answer-

To our minds dilemma.

Will the odds be for or against us-

As a whole.

Whilst I sit and ponder-

On the crowded thought.

I draw my breath in-

In hope that a quiet breath-

Will reveal-


Of which is ours-

Or not of ours.

For we see the glory in this-

But we also see the pain in this.

Shall we seek each other out-

In the midst of chaos?

Keeping in mind the darkness that lurks-

In us both.