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Shoulder to shoulder,
Braced.
Winter westerlies,
Pierce thin down.
Pink flesh pimpling,
Tiny tremorous muscles,
Aquiver.
Verdant frosty turf,
Crunches distantly,
Underfoot.

Cushioned hips - elastic lips,
Brush occasionally,
Inspiring warmth.
Faraway golden star,
Swinging us Spring-wards.
Ever babling brooks,
Aglow,
Set in speckled eyes,
Blossoming smiles,
Into rose red cheeks.

Arm in arm,
Bound.
Swaying age-old eucalypts,
Upon sturdy mottled trunks.
Patterned browns,
And greys supllied,
By Natures artistic brush.
Restless plaintive spirits,
Whistle mournfully,
Through chlorophyll-choked leaves.

Burning ears - brimming tears,
Hinder not,
Roller-coasting black crowned,
Quintessentially boisterous sap-suckers,
Nor darting rainbow lorikeets,
Who,
With their lesser adorned,
Scaly breasted cousins,
Flock in mock squadrons,
Spitfiring twixt leaf and bough,
In embullient delight.

Side by side,
Blessed,
Two love-struck
Snow white corellas
Nestle low on a branch,
Smoothing and rearranging,
One anothers,
Pristine feathers,
With nodding tender caresses,
Like fussing nannies.

Engine drones - Plastic clones,
Worlds away,
Within arms reach.
City-grey office blocks,
And black bitumen streets,
Enclosing parkland patch.
Slow spinning Earth,
Cuts green and blue passage,
Through Spaces' dark realm,
Linked to the fires of creation,
By a delicate thread of sunshine.



------
Like the grasses showing tender faces to each other, thus should we do, for this was the wish of the Grandfathers of the World.

Black Elk




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Comments

The following comments are for "Maleluica Green"
by smithy

Variation & Structure
Yes, I usually try and let the first stanza or two set the pattern for the rest. Then by keeping some elements of the structure the same and playing around with the rest, it is supposed to develop slightly over the course of the poem. The final stanza then is the crescendo. Which I have tried to acheive with longer snetences and bigger ideas. The theme is our urban connection with nature through the parks and reserves we keep. No matter how alone we may feel we are always part of Nature. Our physical senses remind us all the time. The soft flow is meant to be like a stroll in the park, taking a break from our manic modern lives and then finally rediscovering our link to Nature.

( Posted by: smithy [Member] On: October 23, 2003 )

Thanks
And in my enthusiadm I forgot to thank you for your comment Jessica. It has inspired and motivated me. May the Gods watch over you. thanks..

( Posted by: smithy [Member] On: October 25, 2003 )

Wow!
neat poem, can't quite get your title but the poem is beautiful

( Posted by: larryta4 [Member] On: December 18, 2003 )

thanks larryta & pen
Thanks Larryta. The title is the name of the actual park Maleluica Green where I wrote it. The Malaluica Trees are paperbark trees that line the creeks and the green is the tender leaves of grass that carpet the parkland.
Yes pen , its a jagged stumbling sort of style, but I write it with the lines suggesting a slight pause rather than just speeding on through prose like we do. Another season, another melody.
Thanks for your comments
smithy

( Posted by: smithy [Member] On: December 18, 2003 )





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