Auckland Poetry

Riches  

Dark clouds hang over the valley this morning, there will be rain ok; I also hope there will be a rainbow too, I have a silver spade ready andleather boots as well.  

Last time I found a nugget of gold, where a multi coloured arch got stuck in the ground, my brother stole it, he lives in
Bahamas now, pays no taxes and have seven servants  

He wasn’t happy so they sent him to Betty Ford’s clinic where they teach him to accept his guilt and stop beating himself up because of a trifling culpability, attack of remorse can happen to us all;  

forget your sin, sobriety is bliss, god forgives and speaks English. Should I be rich today I will not tell anyone, but keep my money under the mattress, live like a pauper and enjoy my solitary treasure.   

Riches  

Dark clouds hang over the valley this morning, there will be rain ok; I also hope there will be a rainbow too, I have a silver spade ready andleather boots as well.  

…………. 

Last time I found a nugget of gold, where a multi coloured arch got stuck in the ground, my brother stole it, he lives in
Bahamas now, pays no taxes and have seven servants  

———– 

He wasn’t happy so they sent him to Betty Ford’s clinic where they teach him to accept his guilt and stop beating himself up because of a trifling culpability, attack of remorse can happen to us all;  

………. 

forget your sin, sobriety is bliss, god forgives and speaks English. Should I be rich today I will not tell anyone, but keep my money under the mattress, live like a pauper and enjoy my solitary treasure. 

After The Storm  

Now that the spring tempest is over and the ground is littered with twigs and juicy, green leaves flung off mother tree long before they should, it gladdens the woods that the old oak still stands although it is almost hollow inside and is home to a family of foxes, myriads of insects, and a 40 years old bachelor hawk.   It is the oldest wild tree around; there is an older one though an olive tree that still remembers when Roman soldiers marched through here and the young centurion who rested in its shadow, fell asleep and dreamt of becoming a new Cesar. Whether he made it or not the olive has no way of knowing. The reason other trees were glad the oak endured is that that its presence gives them the hope of longevity