Where the Wind Comes From
People and Houses
Tell Me
Driving - the old and the young
Dandy Lion
Camp Fires
Knots in May
The Itch
A Genetically Modified Poem
Night closes in
The Rain
Mid Fifties in 2000
In the blink of an eye
The Criminal Mind

List of 2007 stories

Tell Me

Tell me about
the trees I've grown to love;
their leaves, their trunks, and canopies above;
the oaks and ashes, lime and yew;
those English giants once I knew
from childhood days, such memories;
the beauty of those splendid trees.
Tell me about
the wood I used when I was able
to build a lounge room coffee table;
the huon pine and blackwood smells
from forests where all timber dwells.
Tell me about
the childhood friends I knew when small.
What happened, I wonder, to them all?
It sure is hard to tell
if they remember me as well.
But lots of memories linger on -
party days and seaside trips - now gone.
Tell me about
those smells I've always known
(I love them still though now full grown):
strong coffee freshly ground;
onions, fried and browned;
new dug garden ground;
smoky fires; fresh tarmacked roads;
new-mown hay in piled up loads;
squeaky carts and apple smells;
Sunday morning's chiming bells;
in baker's windows fresh baked bread;
springy coils beneath my bed.
Tell me about
the market stalls along the street
where barrow boys would smartly greet
all shoppers with a lively patter
while people gathered just to natter:
"lotsa luvly spuds, buy a pound,
roll up, just outta the ground,
only the best, all ripe
no rubbish, no tripe,
come an' get 'em
'fore I sell 'em!"
Tell me about
those days gone by.

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