11 Fun Facts about Koalas

Surfing Instagram today, I saw the cutest video of a baby Koala cuddled by his mum and was instantly inspired. 

Joey’s mountain. 

Oh, to be a Koala, cuddled for
the first 12 months of your life.

Snug and warm above, in a gum 
tree divide, safe in mum’s cozy fur.

Dozing to a leaf lullaby, rocked by 
the wind.  Food to be devoured

with glee - and free. No rent to pay
or house to maintain.  Eucalypt 

umbrella protects from the rain,
swaying wet songs. No need to clean. 

Just stretch a hand, grab a branch - chew.
Time to sleep, feed, breed - as Koalas do.

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2023

#POEM:Joey'sMountain    #FrancesMacaulayForde   #Poetry  #NewPoem  #BabyKoala  #KoalaJoey 

This poem was written to the artwork ‘Breathe’ by Jessica McCallum for her debut JM Exhibition at His Majesty’s Theatre in Perth, Western Australia, 2009. It was later read at a friend’s wedding.

Like dust…	

…in the brightest moments of your life you will see me, know I am here, 
but most of the time, forget you are surrounded until I pile myself onto
the surfaces of your life, obscure the view ~ stop you seeing clearly, 

for I will blind you with dust.  I have finally found the perfect place, 
will settle proudly, content to exist in your garden, even when you shovel 
me around, stack me on the side or toss me away turning me into mud 

with tears… I will still be here.  You’ll see me hurrying as the sunlight 
streams, to nestle happily once again in the nooks and crannies 
of your everyday.  As you work, I will lay waiting patiently on polished glass 

for you to draw, or write, or whisper a reminder of me. When you move 
or brush me from your shoulder I will find a way to climb up, to be near 
your heart once more, to hold you, to cover you with many, many particles 

so light, so soft, so tender you won’t be able to ignore me because I want
to go where you go and be where you are. I am found in every corner 
of your life, all of your rooms, all of your emotions and all of your actions. 

Remember I absolutely exist. I am on your breath, your clothes, your food. 
I am outside, around and in you.  I will multiply with every puff of kissed air, 
each gentle breeze moving over your body, every cloud that shadows 

the brilliance of your day, each current of warmth, every time you touch. 
I am here resting on every surface of your life. You’ll see so much dust 
you’ll want to claim it, write your name in it and make me yours ~ forever.      

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2009

#POEM:LikeDust #ART:JMExhibition #ARTIST:JessicaMcCallum #ARTisTheSPARK #EkphrasticPOEM #POETRY #WeddingVow

The artist, Jessica McCallum at her JM Exhibition at His Majesty’s Theatre, Perth, WA, 2009.

I see your mouth, your lips, 
your tongue moving, 
pointed in my direction, 
shaping words I cannot hear.  
I know you are expressing
 love with your eyes and hands, 
signing our future, sealed 
and stamped in ruby red wax
 – declared!   I try to do the same 
but cannot recognize your words, 
only feelings.  


I won’t question because I can’t – I will show you 
I know you, I feel you, I see you but can only grunt
 and grin with love – music for your eyes even 
though the world may frown at the ugly sounds you 
cannot hear.  No need to speak, I declare our love 
with every tentative press of flesh – a smile which 
steals the words and hope you can read me clearly 
– hear the vow I cannot say.

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2009

Poem written to the art of Jessica McCallum 
for JM Exhibition 6th December 2009
at His Majesty's' Theatre, Perth, West Australia.

#ARTisTheSPARK  #POEM:Deaf  #POEM:Dumb  #ART:JMMcCallum  #JessicaMcCallum  #EkphrasticPoetry   #Poems  #HisMajesty'sTheatre 

Thank you to all who have read my ekphrastic words presented without images, as just words, with no explanation or background information, where published or why written. Most of all, no commentary on why those words were chosen.

I wonder if they stand alone? Where does reading the poem take the reader?

Do the poems make sense without seeing the artwork or an explanation of what the artwork represents.

Do you, as readers then paint your own mental artwork in order to make sense of my words or do the words stand alone? 🙂

NOTE: An ekphrastic poem is a vivid description of a scene or, more commonly, a work of art. Through the imaginative act of narrating and reflecting on the “action” of a painting or sculpture, the poet may amplify and expand its meaning.

The original artworks and my poems written for exhibitions 2007 & 2008 are linked below.

2007: E.1 – Circles © 2007 E.2 – Head Music © 2007 E.3 – Country © 2007 E.4 – Wild Orchid © 2007 E.5 – Coral Bay © 2007

2008: E.6 – Passions © 2008 E.7 – Race Track © 2008 E.8 – The Visitor © 2008


PROSESS: A work by an artist with disability needs is sent to established poets for their response. Their words are then exhibited with the artwork for sale to the general public over two-weeks.

AIM: Neither the artist nor poet are paid for their contribution, however, each combined artwork is then sold. A book of the works and words is also produced. Both raise funds for CREATIVE CONNECTIONS under the auspices of Ability, WA.

RESULT: All are done to enrich the lives of those who are confined, one way or another. At no cost, but of huge emotional benefit to all who participate, especially the artists and poets who share their works. Members of Ability, WA, have artistic experiences presented for the public with a poetic voice, funding participation again and again.

It is a model used around the world.


#CreativeConnectionsWA #AbilityWA #EKPHRASIS #DisabledArt&Poetry #ART&POETRY #ART #POEMS

The Visitor 

Feisty, flashy aliens landed in the valley 
and built their house among the trees.

Each module had a round orange cone
connected by hopscotch corridors of glass 

so every being could clearly see who dared
to  enter their chilli world among the green.

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2007

An experiment to see if my words stand alone.


The static audience is a smudged yellow blur
as my Formula Ford whizzes past the stands, in blue.

Around the chicane the red Ferrari takes the inside
and I glide past, pedal to the metal with a grin.

You won’t catch me - I’m every colour of the rainbow!
Tho’ purple blobs try, they’ve got no space, in my race.

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2008

An experiment to see if my words stand alone.


a wide smile
weighted hugs
Pavarotti with
new food only
hide this red 
cloud thundering 
over my heart

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2008

An experiment to see if my words stand alone.

Coral Bay

Snorkelling with rainbows
just past the breaking surf, 
I see the red rocky shores
of the North West Cape.

Shimmering white sands where
Coastal Daisies, starflowers
and Sturt Peas grope to grip
harsh hot terrain in fighting wind.

At Easter, a hundred yards off  
the bay, coral triggers upside down 
snowstorms to invite gentle giants 
from the depths of Tantabiddi to feed 

whilst in my imagination, I squeeze 
the fish colours through my fingers
to paint pictures and feel myself
swimming with whale sharks.

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2008

An experiment to see if my words stand alone.

Wild Orchid

With a naturists eye
infinite care, such
considered placement.
A fern frond here.
A gum leaf there.

Pink & yellow dried
petals, delicate veins
like a bridal veil,
placed in the center
of your wedding cake.

An orchid appears
exotic and rare,
like me.

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2007

An experiment to see if my words stand alone. 



take my hand
walk with me
through family

follow straight
railway lines
in the sunshine

leave hand prints
in caves sprayed
white sand hills

mountains of
red clay heart
brown beauty

take my hand
walk with me
through country

Frances Macaulay Forde ©  2007

An experiment to see if my words stand alone.
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