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  World Congress of Poets  Sydney 2001

 

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The Charm of the Visiting Poets
                                              
(Manly, 10th October, 2001)
Sitting on the rock face:
wrinkled rock speaks,
speaks of sea and sky and planes
planes of water and gold.
Water, reeds slash silence
a silence echoing Nature’s beauty
- the beauty of banksia and birds.
Birds dialogue with time -
time long gone by.
Long reeds whispering, remembering
remembering other voices
sitting on this rock face.

By World Congress Poets: Alma Denton; Chen S Yang; Sara Ditza Kourtchy; Edial Vidal; Dorothea Müller-Ott;
Sergio Mouat; Donna Samson Zaponne; Pam (a local poet); Jan Dean, Bronwyn Rodden and Ann Skea (of Manly Poets Group).                      



THE CHARM OF THE MANLY POETRY GROUP

Manly Poetry Group meets each Tuesday morning 10.00 12.00 in the Meeting Room of the Manly Library. We share poetry and inspiration and we invite all poetry lovers to join us. Between us, we created this magic charm::

Within this circle of friends there is poetry.
Between the lines of the poetry there is inspiration.
From the breath of inspiration there is creativity.
In the light of creativity there is friendship.
From the strength of friendship there is compassion.
In the warmth of compassion there is love.
Within the joy of love there is humour.
Under the cloak of humour there is spirit.
From spirit, humour, love, compassion,
friendship, creativity and inspiration
flows poetry.



Peace
On the day of falling towers I went within and
Pulled forth some vile vapours
Unbottled the bad blood
Let loose a few skeletons
Dusted off the mindless mantle
Composted stale and mouldy thoughts
Dug out well rooted worries
Forced forth unfounded fears
Emptied out the tinder box
Released the butterflies

And at the bottom of the pit of me
In the silence of my soul
I found my shadow hiding
Seeking refuge and hanging on
Until grim death do us part

Gently I prised it loose
Softly I coaxed it forth
Silently I stretched it out
Lovingly I shook it free

And in the full light of the living day
Where shadows melt in gratitude
It ceased to be
And only then did I find peace.

© Carole Douglas 16/9/01