Part One in a Series…

Fireman = Firey

Service Station/Gas Station = Servo

Sandwich = Sanga

Paramedic = Ambo

Sausage = Snag

Tracksuit Pants = Trackie Daks

Your weight sweetly upon me
filling each dip, drop, slope,
fitting
each joint, ridge & hillock of
my body’s landscape,
shoulders finding
the other half,
heads pressed into
each other, hands curving along lengthened
smooth places,
a shape made out of
links, elongated
beyond our sizes but forming
a circle:
how excellently
matched those nearnesses,
how well & sweetly
fitted
those weights, those lightnesses
borne down upon me

Hilda Morley

I picture you,
opening the door,
walking up the orchard rows,
in the caramel of evening light.
A giant’s shadow peers at you
from in between the trees,
trudging silently with you
as you lift the sun-warm fruit,
cup in one work-seasoned hand
an apple, rich and scarlet ripe.

I picture you,
opening your door,
treading the dew drenched grass,
the raucous song of wattle birds
spritzing the crisp dawn air.
Your hands busied at the basket
gently placing, one by one,
harvest fixed by darkness chill,
all glossy, sweet and unblemished.

I picture you,
opening my door,
singing to the hallway ceilings,
eyes creased deep in blissful smile,
tide of sunshine flooding in with you,
the giant heralding you in silence
as you tenderly bestow
your joyous gift for all seasons,
proud and precious gems of autumn.

Maggie Munro

Furry Friday