Blossom

I'm in Sydney, Aussie for two nights for the Liberty & Society Conference. Sitting in the departure lounge at Christchurch airport I pulled out the iBook G4 (thanks Lyd!) and pulled a scrap of paper out of my wallet. During the fairly stolid Local Govt. lecture that morning I had started writing a poem. Hammered it in and kept working on it. Finished it off on the train (they're double-deckers here in Sydney!) to St. Leonards which is in North Sydney. Caught a glimpse of the Opera House too, hope to get a better look at Sydney Saturday or Sunday. Anyway, here's the poem - admittedly pretty sentimental but it was just as spontaneous!

Blossom

half-past midnight; it's dark out here,
blossom petals floating through the air -
defy gravity, time and space;
the warm breeze blowing against your face

dewy grass, my jandals slippery,
holding hands, we walk very quickly.
stars come out in a cloudy sky,
the moon is shining for you and I

forever young I want to be,
walking forever; just you and me.
we need no sleep, we'll talk all night,
thinking out loud til' the sun is bright

we speak of doubt; uncertainty,
and if what's happening is meant to be
we can talk our problems away -
and everything's gonna be ok.

you've got to go, i understand,
things never happen the way we'd planned
lifting my head I see again,
blossom petals floating down like rain

Most Tranquil

Meandering ahead, the bright sunny street,
The tarcealed footpath warm under my feet.

Fresh cut grass glistening with the morning dew,
Smells just like last spring, yet refreshing and new.

A cluster of daffodils springs from the grass,
The carefully trimmed verge is just perfect, first class.

Cherry blossom trees line the long winding street,
The well-kept gardens looking charming and neat.

"Tranquil. Most tranquil" - the thought crosses my mind.
Drive past in the car; it's as if you were blind.

A good pair of jandals and cut-off jeans shorts,
Open-neck tartan shirt, my head-full of thoughts.

"First Spring", this is the first spring that I have known,
And I am walking down the street on my own.

Everything's like no-one has seen it before,
and I know what I've waited all winter for.