Love Poetry For Couple

from The River in Our Blood A Sonnet Crown I The geese are painting the sky with a V, my lord The Mississippi laughs with its white teeth How fast winter flees from the lowland, my lord And how�s the highland where songs forever seethe? At the confluence, I sing of the prairie, my lord My joy and sorrow soar with rolling spring Its thunder half bird, half mermaid, my lord No

Someone forgot courtesy and politeness. Someone forgot to rinse off the weed killer. Someone forgot to turn off the billing software. Someone forgot to rent the crowd. Someone forgot to tell the owners of the 4 million cars sold in China. Someone forgot to bring the Zombie-Killing Manual. Someone forgot to tighten the sidestay shackle. Someone forgot to tell Rocky. Someone forgot to strap down

(for Munro te Whata) He�s an unsung superhero in the village He can fly breathe underwater walk on hot lovo stones No one knows his secret except his soulmate Duna Grandmother Eel who lives on the reef He visits Duna on moonlit nights when everyone is sound asleep he swims out to sea They talanoa about ancestors and Vu good and evil ancient times He wished he lived in those days he would

Often beneath the wave, wide from this ledge The dice of drowned men's bones he saw bequeath An embassy. Their numbers as he watched, Beat on the dusty shore and were obscured. And wrecks passed without sound of bells, The calyx of death's bounty giving back A scattered chapter, livid hieroglyph, The portent wound in corridors of shells. Then in the circuit calm of one vast coil,

Of course with all those legs they�re arthropods � crayfish, lobsters and their armoured ilk. At school one day a bunch of us nipped out in our lunch-break and bought a prickly hulk to have our way with, rip apart and crunch. It was like eating a pterodactyl � morally, I mean, in retrospect � but the sea-drenched jelly when I snapped a leg from the carapace, cracked it and sucked in ecstasy� no,

A mistake. An error of judgement. A penalty brought against a quiet city. Stroll through the park, lunchtime almost over. A defect, a small disappointment. A summer day laden with clouds, grey light that softens the walls, the stone and brick, the glass. Less than expected. Someone to blame. A sparrow rests lightly on the hand of a statue. A weakness in the system, communications break down

Allen Curnow 1911 - 2001 Brasch in his velvet voice and signature purple tie complained to his journal that you had 'interrupted'. I wasn't sorry. That was Somervell's coffee shop nineteen fifty-three. Eighteen months later you and I were skidding on the tide-out inner- harbour shelvings below your house from whose 'small room with large windows' you saw that geranium 'wild on a wet bank'