By Janet Baird. Preface: In 1987 I visited Tonga. I hope it has not become too westernised since then or even disappeared altogether. Small black pigs with piglets in tow fossick at low tide for tiny fish and sea creatures. … Continued
By Voices of Geelong Writers. When our members’ night was cancelled because of COVID restrictions for the second month in a row, we decided to take our creativity online. We invited writers to compose a poem or micro-story of about … Continued
By Janet Baird. As I leaned over the railing watching sleek bodies surf the bow wave with casual joie de vivre, one dolphin rolled onto her side and caught my eye in a moment of deep connection between two planetary … Continued
By Adrian Brookes. The angels of democracy dealt death to Vietnam As civil rights uprisings erupted through the land They marched the streets for justice, got cut down out of hand And Hendrix played at Monterey, the summer of love … Continued
By Adrian Brookes. A movement behind the trees. The morning was dead still. The mist had burned off, leaving the fiery orb to roast the earth at its leisure, and the bush, knowing the signs, had already slumped into another … Continued
By Adrian Brookes. Feel the mood of autumn descending Alchemy turning green into gold A summer of youth is finally ending Shying from fingers of cold And so at last comes the day When there’s no more reason to stay … Continued
By Adrian Brookes. I have a toddler’s memory of my dad’s childhood home and the horror it inspired in me. Len Brookes grew up in a ‘yard’ in Balsall Heath, an oft-maligned inner-city suburb of Birmingham. Built in Napoleonic-war days, … Continued
By Claudia Collins. Henry VIII woke us every morning at the crack of dawn. He was a handsome rooster with feathers of reddish brown. My sister Polly had named him after the king she’d learnt about in history class. ‘A … Continued
By Guenter Sahr Love. Love! You want to know about Lourve? e-harmony claims someone finds lourve every 14 minutes. And because there must be a receiver and a giver, by my reckoning that’s an ecstatic 4.3 couples per hour. Or, … Continued
By Kerstin Lindros I dreamt of waves. I wasn’t greedy—I’m talking waves of moderate proportions, wavelets, a gentle swell, like the rippled old carpet in the hall, and thin but determined sheets of water, expanding over an ever-growing dark band … Continued