Poem for our earth
Slain and crushed, using credit that ran out long ago
Sickness sears our souls, mutes
colours and smells and tastes.
Muted living. We live as fools,
carrying on in jest.
But brightness cannot be shut out
the freshness of morning overpowers our mourning
the sun (son) rises and breaks the night.
New life from the soil.
Haiku
droopy rimu trees
depict my internal state
indifferent teenagers
Love calls us to the things of the world - A Sonnet
A mysterious cycle continues
From death, a seed
Small and insignificant
Placed gently in the dark, damp soil
or perhaps, shoved in carelessly.
Watered by the rain
Nourished each morning by the brightening sun
A shoot appears.
Slowly it grows
leaves broaden, flowers sprout
A little pumpkin from the seed
Patiently waiting for maturity
Then disaster, anger, cursing
a squirrel has chewed it off the stem.