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All the things she loved
were hard and dark and cold.
All the things she loved
were not like her.

They may have been -
if she had the sureness of mountains
and the confidence of thunder clouds.
But she was soft and tender.
But these were the things she loved.

Once I felt her tremble beside me
in a thunderstorm.
When I looked down
it was to see her slow smile
below quick and sparkling eyes.

For these were the things she loved.
Hard smooth river stones
she took away in her pockets.
Dark nights of racing moons,
the wind, whipping her lavender coat
into bulky leggings.

She loved the blizzard cutting her face
as she raced past the last stand
of icy snow gums,
stopping to gather perfect ‘ice gumdrops’
that she peeled from the leaves
and sucked with primitive pleasure.

Her nostrils widening to drag in the cutting air.
Like they did when she watched
the fierce flaring face of the stallion
that lived on the razor back.

These were the things she loved.
Storms just on the edge of disaster,
the roughest passage possible,
short of taking life.
I know she secretly prayed for them.

Monstrous waves
crashing a million year old rocks
into a million pieces of sand,
excavating the homes of hermits.
Leaving behind salty battlefields
of crabs and gulls.

The old hound, baying
from the farm on the creek
that would stop her still in her tracks.
The sharp pines on the ridge,
pointing to the moon
while shading the homestead graves.

She wasn’t like these things, you understand
and I’ve seen her go down
with a soft sigh onto her knees
before a lady bug on a rose petal
or a tiny tree frog on a fern.

These dark things, she loved,
these things that took away her speech
and filled her with open mouthed awe,
till small groans, like David's prayer, could be heard
and only the angels could interpret.

And all these dark things, were light to her
because they held such imagery.
Such poetry.
I never understood her,
I only know - these were the things she loved.

Not the poem which we have read, but that to which we return, with the greatest pleasure, possesses the power and claims the name of essential poetry.

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The following comments are for "All The Things She Loved"
by Huni

Thanks for your comments on my poetry. Your poem here is a trek, but well worth the ride. The imagery was clear to the point of seeing the ocean and hearing the waves. "and all these dark things were dark to her..." GREAT line. I enjoyed the whole portrait. Oh, and the last word of "Oddly Faulkner" is the county Faulkner made up to be the landscape of his fiction. Thanks again!

( Posted by: Dante29 [Member] On: August 22, 2004 )

Oh, Huni!
This is fabulous! I would really like to know the inspiration and history of this poem, if you could share. It's absolutely gorgeous!

( Posted by: mzjen1 [Member] On: August 22, 2004 )

Loved the comments
Thanks Dante, you are welcome as well, i love that you 'saw' my poem like that.

Jen, glad you liked it. I'm not sure it is so easy to explain this one. Not biographical as such, certainly it has bits of my life in it. I guess I was interested in crafting a poem.

Tinalouise, what can I say to such a compliment from you -thank-you- is all.

Windchime, I was very committed to this one, so thank you.

Jessica, I saw the movie of VW so I see your initial meaning, I'm not educated like you so really appreciate your comments and I will read some of her work soon.

thanks everyone, I'm not sure how I missed your remarks till now. huni.

( Posted by: huni [Member] On: August 29, 2004 )

pamela huni girl
good write. like your style.

( Posted by: DieBaronHobskewward [Member] On: September 13, 2004 )

a poem I won't get tired of
this is so beautiful, One of my favorites now, I would love to have it above my desk to read daily, its written with such an artistic eye it brushes against the soul.......Your work makes me want to... shrill....more ,,more ,,,more....

( Posted by: coco [Member] On: September 13, 2004 )

CoCo & Baron
Thanks for your comments. Baron, welcome to, I gather you are newish. Have you got work on here? I'l check.
CoCo, what a nice compliment. I'm going back to Haiku now, for a while, as long poetry seems to take something out of me. Haiku always tops me up some how. warm regards to you both - huni.

( Posted by: huni [Member] On: September 13, 2004 )

Thanks for real poetry
You broke my heart, Huni. Only a true lover can utter the truth of such haunting beauty.

There is an obvious stillness to the piece (which I project to be the poet's deep-running love for "she") but at the same time torrents of emotion gushing throughout. I'm spellbound by the choice words of the milieux that string up in the mind breathless settings of panoramic proportions.

Thank you for real poetry.

( Posted by: tinsoldier [Member] On: December 29, 2004 )


Everything has already been said about this piece, so may I just say how much I enjoyed it and how easily it flowed to paint a perfect picture of the heart of your subject.


( Posted by: ivordavies [Member] On: December 29, 2004 )

Tin - Ivor
Hi, thank you both so much for your comments. Tin, maybe you felt the same stillness that I feel when I experience any of these things my self. Even the wildest storm has a powerful stillness in the heart of it, for me. Ivor - I'm very pleased to please you friend. huni.

( Posted by: huni [Member] On: January 1, 2005 )

Well done, I enjoyed this one. very much.

( Posted by: Anowara [Member] On: November 20, 2005 )

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