Archive for March, 2014


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/ )



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,


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 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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020517MumMDay&JamE (4)

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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Just watched most of the Oscars.  All the way through I expected Sandra Bulloch to win best Actress for ‘Gravity’ because of the many cut-aways and the film won so many other awards and I’m sure she was good.  (I can’t comment on films I haven’t seen so will stick to those I have.)

The camera didn’t cut-away to Cate Blanchette once while I watched, so I thought she had decided not to go – what with all the controversy over ‘Blue Jasmin”s director.  (No, I just can’t bring myself to say his name…)   I presumed she wasn’t there – like Judi Dench and was disappointed.

So glad ‘Frozen’ won best Animated and best song.  So many layers to that film, most unfortunately will be lost on it’s young audience.  (My 4 year old granddaughter loved it – so did I! )

And a huge shout-out to Catherine Martin who became the 1st Aussie to win 4 Oscars for her amazing set design and costumes in ‘The Great Gatsby’ this year and a few years ago for ‘Moulin Rouge!’  

You can usually tell who the academy favorites are by how many times they ‘show’ in cut-away, the ‘star’ in the audience – case in point Best Picture:  ’12 years a slave’ (which I didn’t agree with).   Sure it was a good movie but ‘Captain Phillips’ was better all ’round and should have at the very least won Adapted Screenplay, so was ‘Philomena’ (both mentioned in my top 1o), – Hell! even ‘The Railway Man’ was better.

But I have to say the fashions were beautiful – as expected (expect for Ellen).

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Following on from Friday’s post about Glen Phillips, I wanted to share a poem which was included in ‘Landscapes’ the journal of the International Centre for Landscape and Language at ECU.


Moondyne Joe, the central character in the re-enactment.

The poem was written after we attended the Moondyne Festival, a re-enactment of the Moondyne Joe legend held every year in Toodyay.  

It’s an historic town in WA which had recently been devastated by bush-fires – far too often a feature of our landscape.

I was struck by the horrendous beauty as we drove through the area, illustrated by the aftermath of death and the brilliant resilience of nature.


black ash still lay
where fire had licked
with devil tongues
across roadside gravel

a careless cigarette
city-slicker thrown
community fun day
re-enacting Moondyne Joe

quick fire prowled up
summer-dry gullies
stand of trees ridge
wind break – not fire-breaker

no escape allowed
as bright yellow jackets
smother white foam
contain the bush fire danger

gum tree pale striped
old bark peeled back
green growth beauty
black trees juxtaposed

fresh life canopies
halt dieback* spores
spiked hair sprouts
thousand years and counting

*Dieback is a fungal disease which decimates our native trees, reducing them to bare branches.

Frances Macaulay Forde  © 2011

Just another example of Glen supporting and encouraging my involvement in the WA writing community.

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Stephen Page

Author: The Salty River Bleeds, The Timbre of Sand, Still Dandelions, A Ranch Bordering the Salty River. Alum: Palomar College, Columbia University, Bennington College. Follow on twitter @SmpageSteve on Instagram @smpagemoria on Facebook @steven.page.1481

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