The night twines its webbing between leaf and twig,

Catches the moons rays as they are cast,

Frees the capped moisture from petal and bud

and looses Milky Way stars.


Eyes in sleep, now open and blink,

Buds once closed to sun and blue sky,

Open and bloom against the blackness of space.


Green blades sway, rustle and break,

when critters of night wake.

Reflected imagery cast upon lakes mirror

Ripples and shimmers as the creatures beneath stir.


Spouts erupt with life.

Shy of sun’s rays,

Star petals open, releasing their fine silky spray


Out from the banks

Nervously they crawl

To swim in moonlight

And rest upon mossed stones.


Backstroke, breaststroke ripples the bay

Frog kick ceases

On pads they lay.

Screeches, caw’s, moo’s and baa’s

Herald nights treasures

Carving new paths.

Roars of a distance echo in valley’s

As once those forgotten; extinct and sullied

Embrace the nights dance

Well hidden from man

Thriving in secret

On new lands.


As the sun ray’s break

Life in valleys shift

Silence hovers over morning.


On an endless night, the apple of his eye was keeping her anger bottled up inside. Belling like a cat, he battened down the hatches as his better half threw blankets of indifference his way. Boiling mad, his cabin fever had hit panic stations when his noisy neighbours destroyed his peace of mind by taking him beyond the point of no return. Pleading for a path to exile, and shaking the dust from his feet, he informed his neighbours that they were on a slippery slope with his storm of words.

Edging the melting pot, they acknowledged that life was indeed a struggle and instead of jumping the shark, they gave a wide berth, with eyes like saucers believing that for Art, hope washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life, that a conscience is a man’s compass, so Art had better batten down the hatches and roll down the shades, as the light of his life remains upon a sea of uncertainty.