100 Poems Project – Veggies, Tin, and Rosewood Posts.

Veggies, tin and rosewood posts

Tin roof in Comet View’s long paddock,

The poem that started life as an open poem to an old friend back in 2012, whom I had lost contact with for many years, and had let down a long time ago. The poem is probably the longest I have written to date. The story comes in three parts now, the first is about the search and becoming tangled in a dream while on the search. The second part is what was originally first written, and is about regrets from the past. The third part is about having found them, and finding out they are living a good life. So I hope you enjoy the poem, cheers.

Veggies, Tin, and Rosewood Posts.

So tired, so weary of the search,

The writing, the call to sleep,

Fading with the darkness of night,

Drifting from the liquid glow, a transient technology.

 

So brief in this summer night escape, no dream,

 

Thrown awake in time,

Here where the muddy water needs,

Wine or whiskey of some kind,

The Woorabinda Whistler breaks the silence of the night.

 

Climbing out the window, one louver at a time,

To the meet a warm draft West Wind, and find,

As the echo of an old freight train passes by,

Down between the oleanders, helping bare feet to the ground.

 

Passing by the door, then the flash of a whisper darts from behind,

Where you off to?; phew, old friend, I thought you were mum,

Coming to watch the show; what show, what do you mean?,

Off into the darkness, with an old friend close in tow,

 

Off out through the swamp grass,

Out the back, on past the peppered out house,

Passing, gathering the radishes, and tomatoes of some kind,

Between the carrots, lettuce and zucchini, some beans and snow peas too.

 

Up towards the old lean-to, hand up, we climb the gnarled old rosewood post,

Walking up the old tin roof, propping up against the old shop store shed,

Up through the dark night sky here beneath the shadows of the highlands,

See, catch the shooting stars, as they streak their show from north to west’

 

And there’s the crux and the centaur, the phoenix and Orion,

But here they’ve different stories, different legends of their rise,

To hear their stories spoken, to hear them on a dark wild brush night,

The telling of the reasons why, the night sky lives here above us,

 

These be the stories of another time, a time before regret, woken from a dream,

 

Here to say, hello to one old friend,

It seems so long now, so long ago,

Long days running around your family’s home,

High up on the hill, not too far back above the sea,

 

Back so long ago, it’s more real than a dream,

A time when I let you down old friend,

You were there for me at my loss,

But I was nowhere to be found at yours,

 

I can but only express how broken with deep sorrow,

I feel for the day that I let you down old friend,

For time has passed so quickly, a blink and it has gone,

Our youth from then like whispers in memories past,

 

I know my heart and mind ran fleet of foot back then,

What direction to go, choices a scrambled mess,

Still old friend, I let you down in that moment

For this I carry all my life, for this I fail you at the breach,

 

The fun and laughter,

The good-times and the sad,

I miss it all old friend,

I miss it all, those times now past,

 

Those hazy summer holidays,

Running along the long beaches,

To sitting out back as the sun comes up,

Coffee in one hand, so many yarns, I don’t recall,

 

The times we picked fresh veggies, in a lazy morning sun,

And helping out your dad, in that old tin shed above the dam,

Far up from the aging rosewood post and rail to find like yesterday,

Caught on a breeze, your mum’s cooking, an early evening sign,

 

Till now soon the day has passed,

The sun has short to disappear,

Old friend the days of history,

Old friend I would be there,

 

Standing by your side,

Like you stood there next to mine,

Walking arm in arm old friend,

There sharing in lost times,

 

These words may never find you,

Though I do hope, they do sometime,

I let you down old friend,

For that, I’m deeply sorry, for that I know now why, I let you down old friend.

 

In a celebration to life, to the sun soaked shores, there far to the west,

 

They bear you well old friend,

From the west and to the cape,

Your mum and all your family,

Spinning glorious moments, what a world,

 

The shinning moments of your children,

A husband close at hand, here just happy to know,

That you still live here in this land, as far from east is west,

The stories they keep on growing, as the time do change,

 

Till a time to adventure, out beyond this countries long veggie patch,

Way up above the rusted tin of the many places caught in between,

Along the miles and miles of rosewood post, the straight lines below,

Until I can say hello old friend; I’ve not forgotten you in this journey nor the times,

 

To the dreams, regrets, and celebrations, of the veggies, tin, and rosewood posts.

2 responses to “100 Poems Project – Veggies, Tin, and Rosewood Posts.

  1. I can feel the nostalgia, remorse, and, finally, forgiveness of yourself, in these words. I think we’ve all let someone down along the way, but not all of us have the conscience to realize it or the gift of being able to make amends.

    • When I wrote the middle part, it was like recalling a flood of mistakes and thoughts, how could I of done that; yes we’ve all let someone down along the way. Better to make amends than let it sit and wait until too late. Thanks, Julie.

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