back to the bard.

Passionate child, wild on fire,

red of light, moving bright,

don't go so slow tonight,

but dive.

Oh dear, dear, dear, golly gracious,

misfits and day-shifts,

evenings spent on bent knee strings.

beginnings of endings and

second-hand lendings.

i don't want no more sympathy,

heart strings, leading on to nothings,

of new beginnings

endings.

Making more of love songs when -

gone wrong, all done, un-spun,

what is un-sung has surely become

my love's land.

a swollen hand directing

a band-stand.

Oh dear, dear, dear, golly gracious,

what am i to do (shit)

this one has got to un-stick

soon

too soon.

neighbouring fields of mamma and daddy's new land.

mother and baby animals in spring made my heart sing.. pretty little calf babies are so lovely-sweet...
...especially when they fumble and fall like i so often do in life.

where i used to wander at sunset time during my 3 months with mamma and pa before leaving lovely new zealand... through the shell of that old barn, and over top the giant tree stump.

'Aotearoa' - land of the long white cloud.

dinner with childhood pseudo parents not long before my departure to heritage lands

mamma told me to suck it in, and took another picture of me standing here with my contribution to the farewell dinner but my smile looked supremely rehearsed, so despite my lack of posture in this one here, my smile is much more genuine, so i thought the better.

-katie joy merryweather, © poetry composed on fifteenth of august, two-thousand and ten.

-adrienne merryweather, photography taken in january, two-thousand and ten.