Hour 12 of 12 – The Finish Line

After 11 hours with a brain all full of mush

I post this one last poem of mine until I fall to dust

This is the last of my 12 poems in 12 hours have I written

I’m not sure if there’re any good, could be only for derision

But here I am, right near the end, and it’s all I can do

To get across that finish line with my bed firmly in view

This was harder than I thought when I first began

But to make it here, it’s crystal clear, there should have been a band!

Again, Again, Again, I say, or perhaps I should demand

To make it here, it’s more than clear, there should have been a band!

Hour 11 of 12 – Birth

Warm, safe, soft, dark but nurtured, surrounded by a supportive pouch

Pushed roughly into the bright, glaring light

Loud, discording sounds, harsh upon the ear

Pain, cold, crying

Wrapped up tight, warm again, against a familiar yet strange sound

Beating rhythmically, soothing, sleepy, lulling into deep dreaming…

 

I am born

 

Hour 10 of 12 My Country, Australia

Walking trails on mountain ridges, looking out on vistas green

With misty mountain ranges, in the distance to be seen

Rain forest trees stand proudly, tall, majestic on the path

Meandering through the lushness of its awesome aftermath

Deserts dry and dusty, red earth caught in windswept storms

That turns the brightest sunny day into a hellish dawn

The long, hot sandy beaches, with its blue, white foaming surf

The pounding of the giant waves, cool rain upon hot earth

 

The flooded plains, the bush fires devouring every tree

The extremities of nature so incredibly hard to see

The vastness of the countryside, the expanse of clear, blue sky

That fill your lungs with sweet, clean air, allow your thoughts to fly

The busyness of cities, the long, suburban sprawl

The shops, the parks, the offices, peak hours with traffic crawl

The stories of the Dreamtime, the ancient land’s own tale

Amid the sad, sad telling of our original custodians’ wail

 

We are a sun-burnt country, but we are so much more

More than koala and kangaroo, so much more to see and explore

More than those of us who came here, be it over sea, by plane

More than me, a white-born Aussie can ever hope to claim

The land and all its riches are here for one and all

The indigenous ones among us are the ones who hear the call

They are the ones to lead us, to show us all the way

The land that is theirs by right tomorrow, was yesterday, and is today.

 

 

 

Hour 9 of 12 Life Anew

She was made of music, made of lyrics, made of song

Her head was full of melody, she sang them all day long

She jumped and spun and ran with joy,  ’til sunbeams joined her play

The brightness of her winning smile transformed the darkest day

Nothing could mar her excitement, of the awesomeness of life

Neither was she completely blinded to the troubles and the strife

She just basked in the warmth of her Creator, who loved her through and through

Who had planted the seed of true love in her heart, to bloom purely with life anew

 

This is who I was meant to be, and am striving to become

The one God made me long ago, long before my life had begun

To be rid of the darkness inside me, full of all its sadness and pain

And be fully alive in the love and the joy of the Spirit’s life again.

 

Hour 8 of 12 – The Light Giver

In a deep, dark tunnel I found myself

The proverbial canary in the mineshaft

From a place of light above ground

That had become gradually greyer, darker, and more menacing

Day by day

 

There was a heavy, crushing weight on me

That pinned me to the ground

Pressing continuously on me

Making every breath a battle

Of mind and heart and my badly bruised spirit

 

It was a pit of despairing

A cold, wet, lonely place

Where I thought no-one could, or would

Come looking for me,

Let alone seek to rescue me

 

A light shone, dimly at first,

From an unknown source

Just as I felt I could hold on no longer

It seemed to come from the tunnel before me

Until the whole area where I was trapped was dazzling

Brightness sparkled off diamonds embedded in the surrounding rock

And I gasped with awe as the weight that had held me down so firmly

Seemed to disappear into nothingness

 

The light was the One who brought warmth for my shaking, numbed body, mind, and heart

Infusing it with the joy of loving, of caring, of gentleness.

Until I could rejoice in the awesomeness of life.

Hour 7 of 12 Daring to Dare

Sailing high above soft, fluffy white clouds, in a sky of brilliant blue

While I knew where I was going, not sure what I was going to

He’d answered my ad in a Christian magazine, but not seen him in person, as yet

We’d emailed, written and phone – spoken, but he had to leave before we’d met

I’d had no thought or intention of a long distance romance at all

Yet here I was, in a silver – winged plane, flying to his door.

 

My Dad said I was “crazy”, I “couldn’t afford such a flight”

“You know almost nothing about him’, he said, ” so how could he be Mr Right?”

” I have to go”, I told him, “even though I am taking a chance,

“I have to see if this overseas man could lead me in our own wedding dance”.

 

So soon, I arrived in humid Fiji, where I’d never been tempered to travel

Thinking, “Why was I here? Maybe Dad was right!” as my confidence began to unravel

Through customs, and into the arrival hall, I wondered if he’d really be there

But he smiled as he waved and came, calling my name, hugging me and stroking my hair

 

And so, it began, with this Indo-Fijian man, and a woman from that Land Down Under

Under tropical skies with such love in our eyes, would this be just a holiday wonder?

Well, what would you say, if I told you today, we made it beyond that first time there

Now 16 years on, and we’re still going strong, you’ll never know what you’ll find ’til you do dare!

 

 

Hour 6 of 12 – I Shot a Poem into the Air

I shot a poem into the air, where it might land, I know not where

I wonder who might read it, in ether-land, across the sea,

Would someone think it brilliant, wish they could write like me?

Or would they think I’m dreaming, to wonder why I try

To put my thoughts in such a form, to trip, instead of fly?

 

And yet, who knows, I might just hit on someone who just might

Think I’m onto something, a great thought, instead of tripe

They’ll offer me lots of money, book deals, fortune and fame

Or it could just be a giant con, thudding me to earth again…

 

I think I am delusional after this, my sixth straight poem

Feeling like a lunatic, what nonsense seeds  I’ve sewn!

But rhythm and rhyme just seem to keep on poring out of me

Whether they make sense or not, only the reader can see

And so, although it’s silly and although it’s probably trite

I’ll keep pressing on to the finish line, for that 12th hour to strike!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hour 5 of 12 COVID – 19

An insidious, mindless entity, floating through the air

Pouncing on the unwary, wrecking havoc everywhere

It doesn’t have an agenda, it goes just where it will

Bringing down world economies, cities to a complete standstill

It cares not what it is doing, who it touches, where it goes

There was no warning of its potential to interrupt life in its flow

 

This tiny little virus has shown us many things

What life is and isn’t, a thing with fragile wings

It’s shown us what really matters,what matters most of all

Not the latest trend but nature, a loved one’s face, a hug, a call

Showing up the vulnerability of societies build on things

Instead of ones build on true community, and the love and care it brings

 

Hour 4 of 12 Fight of fancy

I’m taking a flight of fancy, along the astral plane

Imagination taking flight, bringing me to life again

Sitting astride a dragon, white with rainbowed wings

Singing to me of far off lands, of many wondrous things

 

Indulging that deep urging, clinging to a shooting star

Swinging on a moonbeam, bring one home in a jar

Living as a princess in a castle ‘way up high

Or an intrepid adventurer, traversing sea, and sky

 

Sci fi themes and fantasy I lose myself within

When life becomes too hard to bear, losing the will to win

The endless possibilities of a book’s white pages

Sparking my wildest heartfelt dreams beyond the present ages

Hour 3 of 12 Solar figures

I have my solar figures, who dance, and nod and sway

Sitting near my window sill soaking up the rays

Elvis dances with the Queen and the silly Mr Bean

A grey shark boogies, licking its lips, at a hula girl, shaking her hips

Santa and the elves dance on wobbly legs while the Easter Bunny juggles colourful eggs

A boy and a girl kiss continuously while Dumbo waves his ears at a brown, rocking monkey

These figures make me smile and laugh on the dullest of days when the world looks dark