Poetry
The Lady of the Coracle
Coracle being a small boat of wickerrwork covered with pitched canvas used by the Britons & still by the Welsh
T'was the journey she would chronicle, her searching for the Oracle
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There she would voyage through the passage of time, looking for reason and versing in rhyme
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Seeking the future told somewhere out there, and starting her journey without little care
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At first she did travel in a straight line, and only the concept of that which is 'mine
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Steering her vessel in the vain hope, with all going well she should stay afloat
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Sometimes she floated and sometimes she steers, the doorway of choices opens up fears
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To sail the firmament what did she learn? Thinking what's real was really not firm
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Perhaps an illusion lost in the mist, but what one could find was really a twist
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Inner chi, energy, what's with a word, all in the phonics, t'is really what's heard
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So here did she wander, got caught in the net, the very first time, she knew water was wet
She saw that the weather was run by machine, and really in nature the best way to clean
Her Celtic, her Danish, was what gave her her looks, and life understanding was not found in books
And for all of her travels and the distance she made, she noticed the spiral, the colour, the shade
No longer paddling, she lets her craft drift, and finds that in fact the voyage takes a shift
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She finds herself now, quite by surprise, seeing quite clearly, the feelings arise, she floats ....
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That looking through the conacle, t'was she in fact, her Oracle??
... and yes
The Lady of the Coracle
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Catherine (a couple of years ago)
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Cernak, David & Galiath
Cernak, David & Galiath
One day they nearly dieth
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In an upside down debarkle
That did happen in a sparkle
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As they seek to find the perfect cincture
For a watercolour tincture
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Paddling through Hayes Inlet
They managed then to get so wet
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The tide had changed, and then churned
And thus the kayak overturned
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Catherine (10 years ago)
The Shorncliffe Pier
& how the old will dissappear
So here we have Ontology, toppled by Biology
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Where should we have wood termite, that taunts and tests the human plight
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To have a fishing spot to cast, a line that goes a small time past
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A spot to grace a moonlight walk, or simply such a place to talk
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Look out toward the far sea lining, where all the time the sun's been rising
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We paint and contemplate the pose, from which this construction since arose
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To have to "demoot" the Pier, to which the locals do hold dear
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Bit by bit the wood got eaten, such a cause to hold a meeting
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To the Shorncliffe Pier ... to past, and present, and a future time
... they laugh those Termite "Maritime"
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Catherine (a couple of years ago)
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Fishing Fabes
extended version
Fishing Fabes
Lost his pet fish
When patted from
Outside the dish
What Fabes had not yet understood
As far as nature goes,
Is that everything that lives and breaths
Has a place that nature chose
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The fish they need the water
And crabs a little sand,
Birds they fly up through the sky
And cows prefer the land
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Frogs they like damp places
Seagulls the like the beach,
Worms they love the dirt,
And snakes, well stay out of reach
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Caterpillars munch on leaves
And butterflies do flutter round,
Possums like to stay in trees
And bandicoots burrow the ground
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So when you see Gods creation
Fabes take some time to think,
Where these creatures love to live
And then give them a wink
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Catherine (written like, 30 years ago)
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