GIVE ME A MINUTE

GIVE ME A MINUTE.

I'll

tell

about

my old, soft,

brown leather boots that

slip silently onto my feet.

True,

they’re

In need

of a wax

treatment to give them

a glowing shine

but that will attract

dust

as

I amble along

the bush track that leads

to the edge of the escarpment.

They are as soft as

melting chocolate,

gentle as kid gloves,

so comfortably

worn in.

Grateful

am

I

that they are still whole.

And as

earth and stone slip

and

slide

between

my toes,

this gentle hugging

of the earth

soothes and connects me

to this place,

this tiny planet,

wobbling

through

space.

VGOW

16/08/17

STUFFED

STUFFED

Down

and

out in

Timbuktu!

Camel train awaits.

Cross the Sahara in a month,

trade in salt and dates.

For fifty dollars, he’ll take us two

tomorrow, we’ll be tempting fates.

We dream

of days spent riding, like Lawrence,

and sleeping in tents,

learning Berber ways.

Rosy veils and amber hues, shifting shadows sashay

in the artist’s eyes,

and star-brilliant nights

under desert skies.

This call to adventure is at a bargain price. My friend clearly wishes to go there.

He talks of a town

of fabled, scholastic glories,

of gold,

slave-traders,

mysterious, magic stories.

Thickening

sand,

covering civilizations,

mud brick walls and houses of stone,

ancient markets, covered faces,

awesome sights

unknown.

An outlandish place is Timbuktu,

steeped in faded, past glory.

Who would say no to adventure like this?

A chance at a wonderful story.

A light went on somewhere inside my head.

OK for a guy, but a woman?

Too risky by half,

time to

fly

home.

Leave him to

write on

his

own.

VGOW                                                                                    23/08/17                                     

LITTLE OLIVE

LITTLE OLIVE

With

a

mighty

slap, wicked

wind cracked clay pot and

toppled olive tree.

So, braving August elements,

blue booted, with pick and shovel,

I

go

to save

little tree.

‘There,

there!

It’s not

too windy.

I’ll find a sheltered place for you.

Here,

this

cherry

tree will be

company, true blue.’

With pick in hand I dig the hole,

spade out the dirt, it’s hard work.

Water works,

muddies earth.

Olive is crooning in the ground,

It’s a cozy spot I have found.

So

now,

Mister

August Gale,

roar around and spread your havoc.

Little Olive is safe and well.

She’s hidden in a fairy dell.

‘At

last’,

she sighs,

‘my roots are

free. Now, stronger I

shall ever

be. ‘

VGOW

07/07/17