Archive for September, 2014

Midleton Main St2

In Ireland with my newly returned love we lived in Midleton, a little village 25 km from Cork City.

He enjoyed showing me around his home of only a few years – but the new home of his heart.

Chatting about the ‘mysteries’ of writing poetry, we’d driven into Robinson’s Tyres yard, littered with used product.

I’d just finished saying I never suffered from writers block and could do a poem about anything.  He pointed and challenged me to write about ‘Those’.

So while he organised for a change of Tyre, I wrote about them:


Smooth Skin


Off Old Cork road, turning into Midleton

stacks of life-saving re-treads have Buckley’s

chance of reliving their youth. Discarded tyres


lay stop-piled high; like Auschwitz bodies

deflated, black, aged-old wheel-rings have

reached the end and their final journey.


Unlined rubber circles, low profile cushions

await disposal; melting erasure – incineration.

Their job is complete – no longer needed.


The largest lay prepared, neatly size-stacked,

ready and resigned, proudly age un-marked

claiming their fair share of the dumping ground.


Smaller circles know their place, are thrown

haphazardly because they’ve lost their grip;

swallowed by take-over tyrants, larger than they are.


Tractor workhorses are content to rest, miles-tired,

worn out, knowing they don’t count because the speedy

don’t care – don’t notice how many lines are missing.


Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003

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Newness of things:

the greenness – the blueness – the

colours of Spring.

Hyde Park is showing it’s best leafy coat thanks to our recent rains.  My sister in law Grace, took some inspiring photos for her blog (above) on Saturday in one of two beautiful parks found within our city environs.

Thanks to Perth planners all those years ago, we can wander down paths next to bubbling water aerated by fountains, reminding me of wandering next to the Lough in Cork City.

Although we have mainly Black Swans here, I enjoyed seeing many white swans and other water birds, there.




Like ballerinas,

swans float above their

watery stage.

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2014


#FrancesMacaulayForde  #Swans  #CorkLough  #HydePark  #PerthDailyPhoto



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My sister-in-law Grace does a wonderful job of showcasing Perth with Daily Photos and interesting facts about places.

I write short poems around it…




paddlers ignore

frantically flapping flags

strike rythmically

into the folding flow


Han’s Café


Whitfords with sunset view

and one lonely seagull

trying out the new pool.



Rottnest Island


peacocks parade

scouting the scene

for opportunities


Wanneroo Folk Club


old grey whistles

same old tunes

nothing changes

just remember




with visa ease

he slipped

into Australia

like oiled toes

invade a shoe


Frances Macaulay Forde © 2005 


#FrancesMacaulayForde  #PerthWA  #Poetry  #WAWriting  WAPoet




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My novel… that is.

So I’d be the perfect candidate for a course to be run by award-winning Natasha Lester with UWA Extention called “Nailing your novel”:  “Designed for those who’ve always wanted to write a novel but don’t know where to begin, as well as those who’ve started writing a book, only to put it away because they’re not sure where they’re going.”

Natasha won the TAG Hungerford Award (my dream) for her manuscript and debut novel, ‘What Is Left Over After’.  Her latest; ‘If I should Lose You’ is wowing reviewers and me-thinks also on an award-winning path.

How she finds time to do her very informative Blog for book lovers and writers in between the writing and teaching etc.  I’m envious!

If I had the time, I would do the course because I know I would identify why I’m stalled, get the impetus to keep going with my novel and hopefully, make it worthy…

Meantime  I need to take heed of  Natasha’s Writing Tips.


#FrancesMacaulayForde  #NatashaLester  #NailingYourNovel  #BookLovers&Writers  #UWAExtention  #TAGHungerfordAward  #Novelists  #Books  #WritingYourNovel  #Writing  #FinishingYourNovel


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yn02-georgiana (1)

Quite a few years ago now, I was sent Libby Hathorn‘s bookWoman of Flowers’ to consider for adaptation to screen by the publishers Hachette Australia.

Georgiana Molloy moved to Western Australia with her  new husband in 1829.  WA was very different to the gentile English countryside  and Georgiana had a lot of trouble settling in.  The eminent botanist James Mangles asked Georgiana to collect specimens for his research.  A new world opened up for her and she thrived, loving the native plants and documenting them carefully.  Her samples were packed with such care, Mangles sent them on to colleagues who actually managed to grow and study new species from the meticulously packed seeds.

Meticulously researched, Libby’s book provided both a factual and fictional view which I loved after reading it as a subject for adaptation.

I thought it would make a good TV Series but discovered that a local company was busy doing a lot of research on the same subject, seemed well advanced with plans to do something similar, so I judged it not the right time.

6 years on, others have since documented Georgiana’s wonderful achievements over the years, particularly the ABC National Radio but nothing like I envisaged.

As I’ve said, I’d love to give her a new life – a dramatic screen life.  

So any producers out there – maybe now is the right time!



#FrancesMacaulayForde  #LibbyHathorn  #GeorgianaMolloy  #WomanOfFlowers  #WAWildflowers  #WAPioneers  #Books  #AdaptationToScreen  #AdaptingBooks

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Mytwosentences 72.

My newest blog follower Edward Roads posts 2 sentences with a photo – which I find both  innovative and inspiring.   His latest has reminded me of a poem which I thought I’d share, both are about the unspoken:


Priority Seating


Chivalry’s not dead.

Young man offers an older

person his seat, but

not the young lady. He stands

silently, matching her sway.


Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003

Published  in “Hidden Capacity ~ a poet’s journey”, Ireland 2003 &  “Rail Tales” Perth, 2013, AVAILABLE from AMAZON.


#FrancesMacaulayForde  #PrioritySeating  #Poem  #RailTales  #HiddenCapacity  #WAWriter



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“…make your body sing!”  Or so the Banana Board tell us…   Personally I prefer mine on my cereal.




Banana sliced

like a carrot


Peeled and flayed

spread eagle-d

in the rubbish bin


Like a pale octopus

desperate to score.


Frances Macaulay Forde © 2013


#FrancesMacaulayForde  #Bananas  #Poem

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Sister-in-laws and I met for a coffee and burger at Lakeside in Joondalup a while ago – I wrote this on the napkin.




Life moves at such a pace

But we don’t.


We have to order our hamburger

without the bun.


Frances Macaulay Forde  © 2013



#FrancesMacaulayForde  #HealthyBurgers  #Poem

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In Rosemary Canavan’s book of poems ‘Trucker’s Moll’, her dedication is “for my mother who started me off”.  I can relate.

140921Poems 003w


My mum also encouraged my youthful angst in my 1968 handwritten notebook, long before keyboards ruined my ability to wield a pen and ink, by putting a little (accountant’s) tick of approval next to poems she liked.  Done in pencil – I hope it never fades… I treasure those little marks.

Rosemary’s poem on page 61 ‘Flowers in March’ was written on St Patrick’s Day in March 2003.



I too sat newly arrived in Ireland, watching that same parade on the television,  in March, 2003 and wrote on the same theme.

Baghdad Ballet       


A young boy sits, on his mother’s shoulders,

smile-excited in the sunshine, taking part 

in a parade. He proudly thrusts the finger

-sign of peace. Nice to see in an Iraqi child


– family bombardered by ‘Shock and Awe’

the night before, apparently forgiving.

But the visual is blitzed as it flashes onscreen,

by the plastic Sten-gun held aloft, back-


ground brandished in the child’s other hand.

Do you think the young lad plays in secret tunnels,

knows where to hide, where doubles walk

to keep the myth alive, the magic tricks


to keep awake illusions of a still-controlled-city.

Streetlights burn in defiance of invaders largess.

Traffic moves through the night while

bright glows explode in distant thunder


shower shrapnel. We sit on green comfy

sofas, presumed warm and safe inside,

miles away watching the performance

on TV young Liam wears red and white,


holds his defiant hurely high – a warrior

enjoying the sunshine day parade

– a protest for peace in Shannon…


 Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003


#FrancesMacaulayForde  #RosemaryCanavan  #SalmonPoetry  #JessieLendennie   #SalmonBookshop  #CliffsOfMoher  #Poetry  #IrishPoet

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040729aMelsEngageBoatOrig (10)

(This is my handsome hubby loving his new city.)

Found this video of a plane landing in Perth in 2009… it shows how magnificent the Swan River is, winding it’s way around our coastal city.




Perth work-block inhabitants

cannot tolerate strike of sun,

exposure to western beams.


Tinted against brilliant light,

private selves hide in calm

shaded corners of enterprise,


covering their skins in suit black

to fade into a corporate culture,

with intentional severity


they gaze down on convention centre

white elephant surfboard roof

longing for blue coast freedom.


I say: “At the end of day, joyfully

cast off those dark business mantles

and bask in the glorious sunset!”


Frances Macaulay Forde © 2006

#FrancesMacaulayForde  #PerthCity  #PerthWA  #CitySlickers  #Poems  #PerthPoem






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