Our First Walk

A third part of Miranda’s story,

Ripple Poetry

2014-08-16 002 Rainbow on my Path – June Perkins

Our first walk
past the rainbow mosaics on the path
developed the beginning of
our short hand.

His short sentences about working as
a falconer
had me intrigued.

I had heard of this ancient art
but never before met a practitioner.

We could barely breathe words into the world
of our first meeting.

I didn’t know where his sentences
would end and he kept leaving me
wanting to know more

I would later discover he had a tendency to leave
them hanging …

like cliffhanger.

When I asked him his name
he countered me with a question.

What do you think it is?

Miranda discovers her true love is a falconer, but she still has to guess his name.

(c) June Perkins

What do you think Miranda’s true loves name should be?

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Meeting Love

Continuing Miranda’s story..

Ripple Poetry

DSC_0975 Image – June Perkins

I met him at the butterfly house
in the zoo.

I remember butterflies
settling all around him
drawing attention to his presence.

He was so still.

A small girl, with a rainbow hat,
watched the scene
but she giggled and jumped
– the butterflies scattered.

Delighted at their flight
she grabbed her mother’s hand
and they moved on to follow the butterflies
further into the enclosure.

But my eyes could not;
they remained on the still man
who seemed to remain in a sublime moment.

He blinked and then
looked straight towards me.

I blushed
to be captured staring
which was not something
I normally did so indiscreetly.

A smile settled in his face
and he said ‘Whenever I come here I remember home.’
this was our opening .

I would usually have brushed such a greeting away
as I liked to keep to myself
when…

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Miranda’s Loss

I have created a series about a woman called Miranda. She has lost her child …

Ripple Poetry

butterfly eat June Perkins – Butterfly

(I)

In my skin
there’s a butterfly
forever captured
dancing to the beat of my sweat.

It’s dedicated to
the memory of my lost child.

At the moment I keep my weight constant to
keep her memory alive.

But if another child should arrive
and make my skin stretch
maybe it will be time to let go
so the tattoo can mark my
journey back from grief.

Maybe then I’ll have a new tattoo to
celebrate the child I
am finally able to have
perhaps another butterfly.

Am I lost,
to mark out my grief deep into my skin?
To feel the tattooist working the picture into my skin
that is nothing compared to grief.

The pain of losing my
child’s heart beating
inside of me
is too much to bear so

I had to bury it in
the butterfly tattoo that
perches on my back.

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Dancing on Air

 

Fred-Astair-e-Ginger-Rogers1
From newdressday.com Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dance on air

I loved watching Fred and Ginger dance.
Late at night I would watch old movies
waiting for the impressive scene
with the big dance number
where they would tap, and twirl.
I wanted to trip the light of elegance and rhythm.

But I never shared that with anyone.
My mother took my youngest brother to tap.
He used to watch the movies with me.
He also loved Michael Jackson
and his moon walk dancing.
He loved them and his lessons.

But then he had an accident and was in a wheel chair.
Eventually he walked again and now he can shuffle dance.
I never learnt to tap.

Sometimes I wish my brother was just as he was,
and then I know that can never be and we must love him as he is.

He likes to laugh and play a bit of cricket.
He talks in slow motion but still tells great stories if you’re patient.
He can still watch Fred and Ginger dance on air.

His elegance is his courage to get on with life
and ignore the tears of others
tripping the light of endurance
outliving Michael J.
to do his thriller shuffle.

Maybe I should learn to tap.

(c) June Perkins

Show not tell poetry4peace

treeplanting49
Tree planting at the Gap – By June Perkins

Feeling a little heart-broken with all the despair in so many parts of the world. Time to write lots more #poetry4peace

Another bomb

another bomb fell on Gaza
and more people died

more people were feeling anxious
about flying

breakfast television said it was because
of the news and events in Ukraine

mothers and children marched
their happiness through the streets
free from Russian occupation

an Israeli soldier
was kidnapped

another bomb fell on Gaza
and more mothers cried

breakfast television said
children under 7 should not
be exposed to too much gruesome news

in the middle of the night
boat people were flown to Nauru
their lawyers were surprised

I read some poems from a prisoner of Faith
Mavash Sabet
my heart wept for her
missing the great outdoors

and smiled at her strength
and the beauty of her poetic spirit
and capacity to love

another bomb fell on Gaza
a UN official sobbed

we planted trees in a Brisbane park
different nationalities and religions all together
no bombs dropped

another bomb fell on Gaza
and more people died

in the park
families planting
saplings for the next generation
we smiled and laughed
more people were there than expected

(c) June Perkins