Stories & Art

Poem 1: Wordwood (by Margie)

A wooded place, nooks and balds, earth cool or sun warm.

Finding lost, forgetting past, sensing others’, scribbling and shaping – words.


Story 1: The Bed He Made (by Margie)

As he erected the bed he’d handcrafted, I thought he was becoming old-farm-man-like. A warming thought. Before settling-in, I stepped outside into the breathy coldness of the winter’s night and looked in at him sat alone, eating his omelette in the shadows of the lamp lit one-room. The warmth rose again.

This picture aches for a woman. A woman delighted by the gift of the bed for her and for them; a woman to share the aloneness – to be coddled in it with him.

Being that woman, with that man, is my soul. Yet it tests my 21st century mind and body. Too simple for a mind so strained.  Too simple for a body so unstrained.

Story 2: How Myths Begin (by Margie)

From the porch on The Nook you can see in the distance an old, dead gum tree. It looks like a giant stick insect. This is the story of his love.Long ago, that dead gum was a fine young man and truly loved a fair young woman. She returned his love in full measure, but her father would not accept the young man as her suitor. No man was fine enough for his girl.The father made a mistake that could only be made by one with no memory of true love – he believed that it would ease his girl’s pain at being denied her love if her love was lost. He was mighty in magic and turned the young man into a gum tree.

Unknown to her father, the young woman had power herself. She had spent too much time assisting her father not to learn many secrets. She planted herself as a gum tree next to the young man gum tree so they could sway together.

In angry grief, the father blasted the young man gum tree. His body died and became the old, dead gum tree that looks like a stick insect. The blast could not kill his soul, protected as it was by love. His soul split into thousands of pieces and became the first stick insects. The young woman gum tree called the stick insects to her and they took shelter in her branches. Just as today, stick insects shelter in the gums.

The burden of care for the stick insects made the young woman gum tree scraggly. Just as today, gum trees grow scraggly.

The love of that young man and young woman is recalled in the gentle buzz, tangy scent and hazy beauty of gum forests.

 SONY DSC(Photo by Pete)

Poem 2: Love the Predators (by Margie)

‘You cannot love the prey and not love the predators’

If love means,
it is an aching heart.

The dingo.
Pays the predator’s price –
and becomes prey.

My helpless, hopeless
aching heart.

SONY DSCPoem 3: A Universe in the Morning (by Margie; photos by Pete)SONY DSC

Gum leaves quivering
under night rain’s droplets
Sunlit stars
A universe in the morning







Story 3: Anayim (by Margie)

It’s a fairy tale ending.

My character (the pallid office worker) and my partner’s character (the woodsman) make their dream of living in the bush come true. They shoulder swags (they’ve bought in readiness) and move to their Land for Wildlife property near Crow’s Nest. They build a little house, sitting lightly on the earth. On the nights the stars are out and the moon is bright they sleep out.

My character finally gets her herd of goats. There is a loft in the barn, so when the goats need her she sleeps with them. The woodsman looks after the wild plants and animals.

When the grandchildren come, they climb trees and play in creeks. They smell horse, tumble with dogs, and learn about nature’s curiosities. For afternoon tea they eat baked goodies cooked from recipes of four generations.

There’s travel. That means boots and backpacks and wonder.  But, for when backs get too bad, there’s still time.

Art 1: The Nook watercolour (by Margie)

The Nook

Magnetic Poetry (by Margie)

not hand of god
heavenly arrow
angel kiss
make paradise
time will name your passion
your essence call
come through crazy
strong passionate
mad cupid dance on
for we lovers
play music
while forever stops
blissful heart song
delicious night air
beautiful moonlight
wonderful day over
consume evening
ignite a star
faithful fire
good wine
sleep entwined
him tell of
she monster fight
then magic woman plot
fang through eye
people live good
he was a difficult hero
dog eared
heart crackly
of strange imaginings
and short
soul’s dream
voiced by story
always given over too soon
an epic whisper
curl up on a chair
beneath the cover
with a book
and be happy
here wander there
a world in a day
my favourite volume is life I think therefore I sigh