Tales of the journeys of a piecemeal adventurer as a discontinuous narrative
Passion
In Puerto del Sol, Madrid
The wild break dancer
Spinning
On his back
His shoulder
Lithe
Strong
Passion for the night
Passion
The dancer
In the Flamenco Cave
The flashing of the legs
The swirling of the skirts
The staccato beating of the feet
Hard on the floor
Driving the beating of the heart
The Dance of Passion
Looking forward to visiting Spain again to indulge the passion
Summer storm brewing
On a late spring day
Summer is in the air
Heat
Humidity
The rumble of the thunder
Sounding the distant message
Of summers advance
A fellow adventurer
From Germany
told me
Wenn Engel verreisen, scheint die Sonne
When angels travel the sun shines.
So walking in the sub tropic rain forest
An angel must have been with me
Walking as if in nature’s hand
Trees as old as Gondwanaland
Thick green forest
Waterfalls
Sparkling like diamonds in the sun
Walking in nature’s garden
When angels travel the sky is definitely smiling
Springbrook is a place for angels to travel.
Alone
at night
the sky full of the milky way
clear in the darkness
The sea black
the phosphorescence sparkling in the wake of my boat
as she cuts her way through the sea
the light autumn breeze providing her power
silence and darkness
The full moon of Easter has passed
in the last hours of darkness she arises
the waning moon
she sucks the sparkle from the sea
turning it into her own week ribbon of light
Our moods are joined as one
this my last night at sea
the waning of my adventure
dawn will bring my home port and another voyage finished
But like the waning moon
its a phase
in a little while a new cycle will begin
as with the heavens life is a series of cycles
some more spectacular than others
but cycles of the rhythm of life.
I conceived this poem sailing back from Hobart to Melbourne a few years past. It was a magnificent night and I was off Cape Shank heading west along the Victorian coast when the waning moon rose in the east behind me. The morning would see me clear The Rip and head for home.
Its a spring night
Cold
Crisp
Still
The full moon a bright orb in the sky
Shedding silver light over the still waters of the bay