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I'm posting this after reading Chris Hubbard's poem about the Nullabour.

(Photo: my hubby and daughter at the launch of the anthology where this poem was first published.)




before cultivation the water flowed

bouncing on leaves falling, falling

to pool on fertile forest floor below


before cultivation the water flowed

flora bursting with life and c...

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Desert Sky

Driving in a roast red desert
Headlights staring into primeval dark
The untrammeled sky glorious

Above us a bridge of stars
Rivering between rocky horizons
At once near and so very far

Cricking my neck to see
I bounced around the back of the open jeep
Absorbing, amid the shudders, splendor

Star birth and death, worlds hidden by distance
Great glowing nebulae
Fat in the centre, a d...

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Bellyache (for Weird Harold)

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Bellyache (for Weird Harold)

In the American desert were a load of trash airplanes waiting to be scrapped.

On a muggy night under a million stars something strange occurred.

One of the first pre-production F-15 Eagle fighters was at rest, quietly asleep.

Resting on flat tyres, with faded paint and creaking spars, it was a derelict.


No longer high tech, a threat t...

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deserteagle jetillegal copyright infringementlying discmad manred china copies


Well hello my poetic brethren.

 The time has come for yet more spewings from the mind to be shared amongst you. This time I have been partially inspired by a book I'm reading at the moment and partially by a dream I had. I'm pretty sure the two were linked anyway. So let me whisk you friends into the mystical world of Sands.




Vision blurred as focus regains
dream of...

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jet fighter air war over the desert




A murky dust laden night gives way to a searing

hot day over the barren desert.

Sun glints off metal many miles away

as aerial knights rise to do battle.

The Tigersharks get ready to fight

the Eagles in the coming battle.

Suddenly it starts as missile trails

dance through the sky and jets

leave contrails in the humid upper air.

A ...

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