Cradled within his weary arms
Her crumpled bones askew...

Every day she would sit by the gate waiting for...
We could see her from our kitchen window...

Belting down Arundel road in Mid Canterbury
Lined with macrocarpa hedges, sheep and dry...

A closed door will only ever reflect
Forlorn light shining upon peeling paint...

Hovering featherless over Blandswood
Pere Punga...

Well I woke up in the nite
Feeling well, lustful...

Flickering flame
Naked in its beauty...

Joy
Ecstasy...

My heart, not merely a tempestuous thing
Nor inarticulate of rhythm...

Closing my eye's, I see her
A tranquil vision...

Bespoken by angels
Remembrenth...

Her routine was just the same day in day out
At 8.30am on the dot she would emerge...