Tides Of Time


Green 4

Green and grey, blue and white

Rolling onto gold

Roaring waves, splashing feet

So firm, so soft, so cold


Traces remain of those gone before

Lost on the ever-changing shore

I find a log to rest and think upon


My footprints in gold will soon be gone

As the tides of time roll ever on…


Before 2

Log 1

Going 5

Gone 1

Me 1

Green 6




False Blood


I believe it is impossible for humans to tell the absolute truth… it’s in our blood.

We are genetically incapable of telling the TRUTH without compromise or exaggeration.

That simple truth is also why we are so driven to seek out “truth”, yet so willing to allow the “little white lies” to be told and accepted.

Them:  “Place one hand on the Bible, raise your other hand.  Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

Us:  “I do.”


The absolute truth is exceptionally powerful and dangerous.

Tell it, accept it, then move on…

Please, Mr Postman



Please, Mr Postman

This morning I stumbled across an email notifying that a package would be delivered for my partner today.  It included the option to select “safe delivery” so I responded that it could be left at the front door.  I was then out of the house for the rest of the morning, thinking it would be delivered regardless of me being there to sign for it.

When I get home after midday I see a card in the letter box saying the parcel can be collected from the local Post Shop after 4pm today.  Damn!  I had just been at that very shop half an hour before, how annoying to have to go back there tomorrow when I already said to leave it at the door.  (It was actually small enough to go in the letter box anyway).

I walked back into the garage and was about to close the door when I see the postman come around the corner and stop to deliver something to the house across the road.  So, with the collection card in hand, I crossed the street and asked if he had the item with him.  (Sometimes they are delivered by a separate van service).  He did, now I have it and I don’t have to make a special trip to the Post Shop tomorrow.  (No, I didn’t complain about the disregarded delivery instructions!)

Yes, PERFECT timing … the magic of SYNCHRONICITY strikes again… I must be still on the right path for my life and making the right choices!  🙂  


Postman 1



On Thursdays, I usually put the garbage bins out at around 8 am because they’re never collected until Thursday afternoon.  Last night, Wednesday, I had the thought to put the bins out then… so I did.

This morning, at 7 am, I was still in bed when I heard the Garbage truck collecting our bin.  Good thing I listened to that thought last night!


Running Blind


Here’s another piece of verse I wrote called Running Blind which relates to my escape from the job I hated


I was running when I thought I was walking

Thought I was walking but it seems I was falling

I was dying when I thought I was living

Thought I was living but it seems I was lying



Trying to be heard through the chaos

Of voices never listening

Hearing vacant words of confusion

From the hearts never learning

Swept forward by time to somewhere

Not sure how to get there

The drone of routine and safety

That still leads to nowhere



I was breathing when I thought I was laughing

Thought I was laughing but it seems I was screaming

I was crying when I thought I was singing

Thought I was singing when it seems I was breaking



When I fell I came down so hard

Could see no way ahead

I just knew I could not go back

To the way that it had been

It’s so clear the cracks were showing

My pain had been denied

So now I know I could not see

The writing on the wall



I was stumbling when I thought I was dancing

Thought I was dancing but it seems I’m the fool

I was caged there when I thought I was moving

Thought I was moving now I see I had died



I was running when I thought I was walking

Thought I was walking but it seems that I fell

I was lying when I thought I was living

Thought I was living but I’m still running blind.




Calming Rain


CALMING RAIN is a vision I had as I woke one morning…


I awoke this morning to the calming sound of summer rain and its comforting smell wafting through my windows.  I lay on my bed, still not fully conscious, not yet prepared to open my eyes.  I drifted back in time; 40 years and hundreds of kilometres away to school holidays with my grandparents in the sleepy country village of Krambach.

Sometimes we would have days of continual rain.  Not a bad thing at all because it just produced a deeply relaxed atmosphere and a peaceful harbour away from the storms of school and home.

I can feel myself sitting on the back veranda in one of the round chairs of woven yellow and white plastic with spindly black metal legs.  To my left is the curtained off room that was created for grandpa with his single bed, cluttered dresser and small windows that were installed when they enclosed the entire area many years before.  In the area to my right is the big freezer where some of the spoils of the once-a-month shopping trip to Taree were stored, next to the door that leads through to the kitchen, originally the back door of the house.  Grandma’s antique, pedal powered Singer sewing machine is also over there and still in working order.

In front of me the new back door, home-made from sturdy planks of wood, sits wide open giving me a view of beautiful Krambach Mountain in the distance, slightly obscured by the rain.  I hear the harsh sound of a crow in the massive gum tree at the northwest corner of the block and magpies warble in the younger trees next door to the south.

I’m sitting here reading a book, not much else to do on rainy days but read, eat and sleep.  Only two stations on the old black and white TV in the lounge room and neither are on air 24 hours yet.  Coronation Street, Days Of Our Lives, Peyton Place, The Young And The Restless, the daily local News are the highlights; topped off by The Black and White Minstrel Show on weekends.

Of course, these days of endless rain have their disadvantages too.  Going to the toilet is a major challenge as it is a white wooden “out-house” way down the backyard.  Inside it, on the concrete floor, is a big black metal can covered by a plastic seat and the “can man” comes weekly to swap it for an empty one.  So, the epic adventure begins with dressing for the journey in rubber boots, a yellow vinyl raincoat and a matching rain hat or even an umbrella.  Then I take the first step out through the back door onto the small balcony.  On a clear day this balcony provides a commanding view of the backyard and the land beyond.

Below it are the vegetable gardens that provide every vegetable and herb that my Grandmother needs to keep the family fed: iceberg lettuce, apple cucumbers, radishes, carrots, corn, beetroot, potatoes, onions, cauliflower, cabbage, brussels sprouts, pumpkin, and squash.  Along one fence grow beans and peas that we eat straight off the vines and the tomato bushes that have the most unforgettable smell when they are watered.

The garden is dotted with orange, lemon, apple, plum, apricot, pear and peach trees.  Grandma’s peach jam and peach pies are unbeatable and unforgettable.  Grape vines, passionfruit vines and strawberries also grow there providing the fresh ingredients for her grape jam, strawberry jam and magnificent tomato and passionfruit jam.  Beside the grape vines grows the mulberry tree, a favourite target for passing birds when it’s in fruit and the source of another variety of exquisite homemade jam and pies.

At the back of the garden, just behind the out-house, is the chook pen constructed of corrugated iron, wood and wire.  Some of the perches are old wrought iron bed heads and the straw lined laying boxes provide a seemingly endless supply of fresh golden-yolk eggs for breakfasts and the wide variety of addictive desserts and cakes grandma makes.

Beyond the chook pen is the magnificent 180 degree view of the fields and Krambach Mountain.

It’s a Doctor Who book I’m reading.  One of the “Target” novelisations of the many lost episodes from the 1960”s… Doctor Who And The Crusaders or Doctor Who And The Zarbi.  These simply written but engaging books were the key for me overcoming my fear of reading due to my dyslexia and making me the avid and addicted reader I am today, just as those soap shows made me the TV addict I am today.

I would spend hours on these rainy days escaping into the images and characters the words created, seeing it all as if I was actually there.  Providing me the same feeling of “all is right with the world” that I’m feeling until the raucous sound of a distant car alarm and the ringing of my mobile phone drag me unceremoniously back to reality, back to a rainy morning in Werribee, 2017.

This afternoon I sat out the back on the deck, under our pergola listening to the constant soft fall of the calming rain and read a few pages of each of those books, both published back in 1973.

Doctor Who And The Crusaders had a beautiful beginning:

“As swiftly and as silently as a shadow, Doctor Who’s Space and Time ship, the Tardis, appeared on a succession of planets each as different as the pebbles on a beach, stayed a while and then vanished, as mysteriously as it had come.  And whatever alien world it was that received him and his fellow travellers, and however well or badly they were treated, the Doctor always set things to rights, put down injustice, encouraged dignity, fair treatment and respect.”

How beautifully put by David Whitaker.

It was also interesting how, in Doctor Who And The Zarbi, writer Bill Strutton refers to him as Doctor Who instead of The Doctor.  Then at the back of the book it lists places that have not existed for decades as the addresses to send away to purchase copies for:

£1.50 plus Postage and Packing Rate: UK: 45p for the first book, 20p for  the second and 14p for each additional book ordered to a maximum charge of £1.63.  BFPO and EIRE: 45pfor the first book, 20p for the second book, 14p per copy for the next 7 books thereafter 8p per book.  OVERSEAS:  75p for the first book and21p per copy for each additional book.”

Well that was overly complicated!  Thankfully we have Amazon online these days!

Last thing I did tonight was watch the latest episode of The Young And The Restless direct from the US then fall back to sleep listening to the rain.

The endless circle of time keeps turning.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.



Krambach 4


Calming 1