Tag Archives: John Wainwright poetry

Downfall Creek Ginko

                                                               broken silence
                                                               the fall of one
                                                               golden leaf

                                                                            *

                                                               gentle breeze
                                                               the crackle of gum leaves
                                                               across the boardwalk

                                                                            *

                                                               shady fig
                                                               the silence
                                                               of empty nests

                                                                              — Lee-Anne Davie

                                                                Melaleuca
                                                                again an unseen bird
                                                                cries your name

                                                                            *

                                                                wetland pool
                                                                turns my mind
                                                                to tea

                                                                            *

                                                                Easter Saturday
                                                                a family barbecue
                                                                amuses the kookaburras

                                                                              — Trudie Murrell

                                                                  thin path
                                                                  the strangler fig tightens
                                                                  its grip

                                                                            *

                                                                 forest entrance
                                                                 lorikeets race
                                                                 against the traffic

                                                                            *

                                                                 choosing a path
                                                                 ants travel straight ahead

                                                                              — Cindy Keong

                                                                  no breeze
                                                                  grass moves
                                                                  to the rhythm of butterflies

                                                                            *

                                                                  in the creek
                                                                  moss and rust
                                                                  years apart

                                                                            *

                                                                  back to read another page
                                                                  copper-bottomed ant

                                                                               — John Wainwright

                                                                            *

                                                                              all photographs by Cindy Keong

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New Farm Park Ginko: Trudie Murrell & John Wainwright

                                                           garden wedding
                                                           storm clouds bring something
                                                           new to wait for

                                                                           *

                                                           waiting for the bride
                                                           pageboy and crow
                                                           compare suits

                                                                           *

                                                            under the Bay Fig
                                                            a violin plays
                                                            branches dip closer

                                                                           *

                                                            long summer
                                                            boughs outstretched
                                                            check for rain

                                                                          *

                                                             under the fig tree
                                                             crested pigeons fuss
                                                             house proud

                                                                          *

                                                                          poems by Trudie Murrell
                                                                          photograph by Cindy Keong

 

                                                           chattering birds                               
                                                           remove the ear-piece
                                                           when the mobile rings

                                                                            *

                                                           there is but one poem                    
                                                           this time a black ant

                                                                            *

                                                           the woman beside                            
                                                           the pregnant woman
                                                           rubs her stomach

                                                                            *

                                                           autumn breeze                                   
                                                           nothing is still
                                                           but my heart

                                                                            *

                                                           small light
                                                           a spider on
                                                           her web

                                                                           *

                                                                           poems by John Wainwright
                                                                           photograph by Cindy Keong

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Sandgate Ginko: John Wainwright

 

                                                                   high wind
                                                                   on the beach
                                                                   it’s a dog’s life

                                                                              *

                                                                   thieving wind
                                                                   gone is the
                                                                   ocean’s sound

                                                                              *

                                                                   contours of past tides
                                                                   the sea will
                                                                   return

                                                                              *

                                                                   combing the shoreline
                                                                   wind and time
                                                                   hurry past me

                                                                              *

                                                                   young ones dash off
                                                                   but i wait – wind and
                                                                   words find us all

                                                                              *

                                                                               photograph by Cindy Keong

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