Pere Punga

by Nicko   Jul 17, 2008


Illuminating candle sits on the window sill
Throwing shadows at the wall
Shadows of my childhood
Memories of rain like tiny feet dance on the tin roof
Overflowing the guttering
Cascading sheets down the window pane
If I listen carefully I can hear the water tank overflowing
Splashing on the ground before scurrying down the driveway
As the pitter patter sounds cover me like a warm blanket
Secure in my innocence
Keeping out the darkness

Yet I remember the sun too
Awakening in the morning to a world full of vitality burgeoning life,
Of rain scented freshness of lichen, ferns, rotting vegetation,
A scent like no other, to carry with me forever
Before standing on the veranda 6 guns strapped to my hips
Perfecting my draw
Of picking the wild raspberries that mum would make into glorious jam
Of sitting on the long drop tarantulas bitting my bum
Or running to the snow chilled stream for endless buckets of water
To watch the illusive listless ceaseless trout
Trout that Hid beneath the stone covered bridge, under water carved rock ledges, icey crystal clear
Of the root covered bush tracks that tempt us to run and skip
Leading us to ageless saw pits, rusty steel their only legacy
Emily and Rata falls the big tree 15 arm lengths around
The track that led to the lone shop on that long deserted country road
Milk in glass bottles chocolate fish and melted ice cream
Playing tennis on that tar covered court
Tuffs of grass breaking through the cracks
Retuning exhausted a quick game of snap

In the other room half damp wood crackles in the fireplace
The smell of the moss covered wood fills my nostrils
Gran's old valve radio sits above the mantle piece
The hiss and crackle echoes to wondrous ears
An old war torn scrabble game leans against the wall
The 2000 piece jigsaw sits unfinished on the table
My dad asleep catching butterflies on the faded couch
Mum's nose in a catalogue from a bygone age
Sleep comes quickly but the memories never fade
Walking those tracks with my forefathers beside me
When I remember I'm forever young

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Latest Comments

  • 15 years ago

    by Grant Gilbert AKA Slash

    Ahh to young forever, with a body that just won't quit, HAHA what a wonderfull travel down memoey lane. Your poem was a pleasure to read.
    Well done and thanks for sharing

    Grant

  • 15 years ago

    by trippetta TC

    Beautiful and vivid, a painting in words.Lovely

  • 16 years ago

    by Kelsie

    I really dig ur use of imagery.

    great job man. : )
    5/5