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My Poetry
No 1 My Yorkshire Man
No 2 The 1996 Cencus Waiheke Island New Zealand
Discover long, white, concrete drives
slashing their way through deep, green , native-bush,
breasting the hill, straight as Roman roads
Discover, over the crest, modern villas,
tawdry and cheap compared to the jewelled sea,
dotted with grey-green rocks below.
Discover tiny decrepit cottages
hiding themselves shyly
amongst giant, feathered pungas and deep green manuka
Discover brightly painted
unassuming family homes,
their gardens resplendent with rainbow coloured blooms.
Discover wooden cabins,
sides silvered by wind and rain,
their decks like op-shops littered with children's scattered toys.
Speak to the ancient widow
with a nut-brown, wrinkled face.
She'll shyly offer you a sip of homemade lemonade.
Speak to the harassed solo mum,
dressed in shorts and paint stained top,
Whilst tiny toddlers clasp her legs and grin with toothy smiles.
Speak to the doddery dandy
sporting a Fighter-pilot's moustache.
He'll tell of days long past when life was filled with great adventure.
Write in your book
names and addresses.
Take care to get the details right as Government demands.
Write in your heart and memory,
as if engraved on marble,
the honesty, simplicity and sheer humanity which is Waiheke.
copyright
Kath O'Sullivan
Barkerend Fair, West Yorkshire
in the Nineteen Thirties.
barrel organs blare.
swing boats squeak
ropes taut
soaring high.
ghost train whistles
skeletons moan.
wallofdeath shakes
exhausts roar.
fattest lady,
skinniest skeleton
two headed dog
silver mermaid
“roll up,
three balls a tanner,”
“roll a penny,
win a quid.”
“brandy snap,
Yorkshire‘s finest.
candy floss sweet,
a penny a poke.”
crankshafts spin
metallic smells.
lights flash
sparks jump.
scorched chestnuts,
vinegary peas
sweet candyfloss
beery breath.
short skirts
painted eyelids
wolf whistles
glad-eyes.
rosy night
shepherd’s delight
lights out
homeward bound.