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Archive for March, 2014

St Paddy's Day in Cork, at the parade, 2003

St Paddy’s Day in Cork, at the parade, 2003

Spending 14 glorious months in Co Cork  and having the opportunity to attend a real Irish St Patrick’s Day Parade on Patrick Street in Cork City; my Irish Hubby and I always raise a glass to our Irish roots.

It turns out (after much family history research) both our families come from Co Cork, about 10 miles from each other ~ but we actually met in the middle of Africa!

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My gorgeous Hubby and I celebrating in Oz. 2008.

Inevitably, I can’t help thinking of my dear old Dad who was so proud of his heritage who cannot have  his usual Guinness today ~ we lost him 31 years ago.

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My Dear Old Dad on holiday in South Africa 1966.

Unconditional

That moment

when I realized

you weren’t asleep,

I couldn’t cry. 

 

I wanted to,

thought I should,

but I couldn’t shed tears

for all those years

when I was loved

unconditionally. 

 

When I knew

no matter what I did

or said, you would always

love me – be there for me.

 

Put a plaster on my hurts,

fix me up with kisses, give

words to make me feel better. 

 

I’ll never forget your strength.

 

How your arms encircled me,

the safeness of a oak tree,

dense, caring and complete. 

I need that care now! 

 

I need to feel safe again,

to sail into your harbour of care,

find you there, waiting

 

with open arms, accepting

all my faults, all my mistakes

and letting them go. 

 

You always helped me

move on to new adventures,

strengthened by your love.

 

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2013

 

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Climbing The Gloucester Tree 2005© Sean McClean

A Facebook friend lost an ex-uncle in life’s battle recently, Len Buckeridge.  

He was a tall poppy in this ‘small’ town where many of his courageous achievements for our capital city and state were judged by bigots.

But he left many a legacy thousands will wonder at and enjoy every day and probably never know who was responsible.

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Spectacular Perth Arena, built by Len Buckeridge’s BGC

Tall Tree Tanka

Unfortunately

too many enjoy trying

to fell tall trees

when they should be hugged.

We need to learn to look up.

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2014

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My sister-in-law Grace does an amazing travel blog Perth Daily Photo voted the best last year by our West Australian newspapers.

Currently she’s profiling a unique show on Cottesloe beach  ‘Sculptures by the Sea’  also showing the cloudy weather we’re having at the moment.

It’s such a refreshing change –  such a contrast to our normal clear blue skies and heat.  So I feel in need of some color:

Last year, she commissioned my artist daughter Jessica McCallum, to brighten up a plain and very common style of fence in Australia.

I’ve included one Mural photo to give you a taste, but there are more…  enjoy!

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Fence Mural by Jessica McCallum
Photo © Grace Forde

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nest-9

I saw this photo by on the net and was immediately inspired:  nature + telephone pole = home.

(http://www.thisiscolossal.com/2013/02/massive-bird-nests-built-on-telephone-poles-in-southern-africa/ )

 

RECYCLED

Sociable weaver

birds gather Kalahari

sticks, grass, cotton to

construct home-trees for hundreds.

Out-dated rest-points built to

carry distance wires become

capsules recycled for

mobile families.

.

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2013

 

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Perth Skyline, taken from the Mend St Jetty across the fiver in South Perth.

Thought I’d share another poem from my first book written during my on-line courtship, specifically what a poetry editor in Ireland deemed a ‘quirky’ title, to see what you think. 

“Is this the point where you tell me

you’ve been bulls*itting all along?”

 

This comment, at 12.33pm on messenger,

stopped me in my tracks – I had to

question you…

Why say that?  Is this where you are?

Role research? Experimenting on me?

 

I have opened the door for you once more.

You are the love of my life returned

to my room…

‘cos of who you are, who you’ve been.

And who I’ve been – where I’ve been.

 

My labels are cheap, used and tattered.

Yours exciting, money new, and ‘out there’.

Can you ignore…

appreciate the journey, walk the same road

remembering why I react from memories.

 

How did this happen and why now?

The director knows the outcome,

my script done…

Nuances of assistance from higher hands…

mysterious determined effort for lasting love.

 

If the future wanes – dumping my heart…

When I prove not to be what you want…

If my love…

can’t match your carefully constructed,

mental and emotional picture of me today…

 

Rejection!  A resounding slap in the face.

Eternal damnation of idealism – romance.

Proving …

my impossible dreams  have no right

to insert themselves into my reality.

 

I will still love you – hate you first but

eventually settle back to loving you again,

sub-consciously….

I will treasure always you careful words,

your considered approach – all the ‘bulls*it’!

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003

From my 1st book of poems ‘Hidden Capacity ~ a poet’s journey’ Published in Cork, Ireland, 2003.

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Official Participant in the Julie Hedlund 12 x 12 Picture Book Challenge

Soooo excited – I’ve signed up as a Golden Book Member of Julie Hedlund’s 12 month picture book challenge for 2014.

(I find I need deadlines to actually finish fiddling with manuscripts and let them go.)

There’s lots of support and encouragement from fellow participants – many who’re also members of SCWBI.

Julie offers the amazing chance to send a manuscript to an approved agent each month.

At the very least, I’ll have  quite a few new picture book ideas to hawk to local publishers at the end of the year!

 

SUZETTE THE SNAKE

 

Suzette the snake was swish.

                             She slithered with style

                                           and spoke with a lisp.

                                                          Her sensitive stomach

                                                                        seeks special cuisine,

                                                          especially cleaned

                                           in rivers and streams.

                             She swims in salt lakes

              with sensuous ease,

                             sleeps under shade trees,

                                           shivers out in the breeze.

                                                          Skin silvery bronze

                                                                        sun-yellow striped along.                                            

              Speeding through leaves

                                           she startles a feed.

                             Surely her sparkle

                                           and shimmering shape,

                                                          proves beauty is found

                                                                        in a slithering snake!

 

 

Frances Macaulay Forde @ 2001

From my 1st book of poems ‘Hidden Capacity ~ a poet’s journey’ Published in Cork, Ireland, 2003.

So the gauntlet has been thrown and I must rise to the challenge.

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A photo taken by my daughter at Hillary’s Boat Harbor to show my returned love what I looked like after 28 years (very, very hard to do).

When my returned-love found my name on the net after so long, the computer was both my friend and my enemy, forming a safe barrier to hide behind until I found the courage to step into love again.

Computer Messenger

.

Banter that backfired because

literal interpretations got lost

in considered connotations,

(re-read a thousand times)

of what went way-back-when…

.

Juxtaposition of judgements.

Hastily harnessed how-comes?

Stopping me still, seriously!

Making me question us both.

.

My passionate banshee tears

initiated by tactile responses

to words type-tapped carefully.

Sometimes in casual jest

to test my reactions?

.

Is it natural to anticipate

disaster – dismissal and defend?

Not normally for me – I search

for more of your positive essence,

confirmation of my impressions.

.

I want you – all of you – now!

Every nuance of normality

shared secretly, sensually…

But other stuff too – thoughts,

reasons, why you do what you do…

.

I can’t ‘see’ the whole of you

touch your skin – breath you in.

Sense your hands on my breasts

holding me, stroking me softly.

I want – I need – I crave to.    

.                                                                                              

Insecurity inserts itself

firmly forcing doubt-feelings

to well and grow without witness,

until you answer; you calm; you claim,

.

cover my heart and soul with caring.

Linger in my love, lay there

until we’re both sweetly exhausted

by this power, this perpetual passion

.

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2002

From my 1st book of poems ‘Hidden Capacity ~ a poet’s journey’ Published in Cork, Ireland, 2003.

 

#FrancesMacaulayForde  #HiddenCapacity  #Romance  #LovePoems  #Poems

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