Haiku

 Prawns hide under rock
Pelican carries a full crop
A flash in the pan
∞

(A Field of Wheat)
Rich, a full harvest
Hot wind drying the kernels
Fire waits in the wings
∞

Dinner time at home
Hiding under the table
Legs with loud voices
∞

There's rain a cumin'
Dust quivers in anticipation,
Clouds grumble gently
∞

Dishonest honey
Tug on a man's heart strings
Sickly sweet smile
∞

The cold creeps closer,
stalking the warmth of the fire.
Melt my heart, you thug.
∞

(Shaming)
Preaching from on high
He shames us into silence,
tight lipped smiles, we stare.
∞

(Pride)
Stable door opens
revealing a squeaky hinge.
Vulnerability sucks.

∞

The builders Mistake
When cornice becomes cornish
Revert to context
∞

Birds on a wire
The catwalk benches are full
Bobbing grey heads chat

MgM 🕉️

The Twilight Zone - Bowls in Fish Hoek

That's a good Jack', says Pete, there's a mat at her feet
and they've all gathered around on the green.
With hands on her hips and grimacing lips she sighs.
'No, left! ', 'No, right!", '....and a little bit more', and 'that's perfect', they all decide. 
Everyone nods and up comes number one, and the skip looks on from the side. 

'Nice line', he says and scratches his head as Ruby come up off one knee. 

We all stretch our necks and shout 'curl, curl, curl', as the guys hope it lands in the furrow. 

Now it's you, number two, with a delicate shuffle Gill checks her wood for the bias. 

A collective sigh as her hand leaves her thigh, 'it's good! Keep it up, we've got this! '

Laurie is up as Peter looks down and shows him just how wide. 

'A good one, it's close', as the exhausted wood, slows down and lies on its side. 

Who will win, we cannot say 'cause Daugie has yet to bowl. 

We bite our lips, 'it hasn't got legs'

but Pete says, 'we'll have to measure'. 

See

 The sea is green and the clouds are blue,
the sea birds are eating muffins,
and the children are sniffing glue.

Waves washed up papers from across the bay.
Remember the bluebottles of yesterday?

There's still a beauty all things aside,
The wind is still free and see, so is the tide.

Julia's Wisdom

Your words lingered around my ears

long after they left you.

In a dark and tossing slumber those spontaneous syllables

became fireflies gently hovering around my ears

looking for a way in, long enough to wake me gently,

eager to illuminate.

On the Catwalk

Strung like pearls on a waxed thread,

we sit in order of attendance,

soaking up the sun.

Come and dive at Daugie's spot,

the favorite high-tide rock

and Louise will always be there.

Net-swimmers don gear for speed -

we watch the daily ritual.

Spit on goggles, rubber caps slap,

not scared of big white's trap.

Quiz and question testing tension,

wisdom comes with age.

Gather 'round the elders sound,

this is where it happens.

On the catwalk.

Middernag Vraag

Somige dae praat ek kak

Dan gaan sit ek dit nog op facebook
Dit gaan gewoonlik oor twee dinge

Een is
Dat ek nie iemand het wat my lief het nie,

en die ander
is dat ek dalk dit gevind het….
Iemand wat my kan lief he
…en toe is dit nie so nie

Dan gaan vra ek die spieel
vir ‘n antwoordt
met ‘n sker in my hand
en kap aan my hare

The Heart of the Moon

A supreme queen, this grand matriarch of the sky
casts her net of luminous love over her spherical charge.
Trillions of webbed filaments held by her rapt attention,
commanding the vibrant water spirits as they strain and leap ahead,
she draws them back patiently time and again,
disciplining the tides.

When we see her in her fullness, we gasp at her beauty –
She holds nothing back, unconditional, she encourages us to do the same.
Her face beams down at us through our brittle panes, vigilant, as we sleep.
Precious maidens, initiated to new status, hale her and join hands in a circular dance
celebrating fertility, ripe as summer fruit -
Virile men howl with upturned faces an unexplained emotion.

As a waning shadow passes across her face
she blushes and hints a playful peek-a-boo while waltzing with grandfather sun.
There’s a hard edge to it – turning her attention to the other side.
The cusp stays sharp, but soon we see the smile,
which reminds us that she’ll be back
- and then she’s gone – and taken our night light!

These new, dark nights, invoke introspection.
Opening our mouths we take deep gulping breaths of cold hard clarity.
In her generous wisdom our teacher leaves us with a blank canvas.
Appreciating the chance to start again, we throw our sins into a dark tied back sea.
We scrub and clean and count our blessings
until she waxes in the night sky, as dependable as a mother’s promise.

MgM ©