Dream Time Poetry

In the killing fields of a loveless life

saviours rise from out the past

to throw the bones of stimulus

to the needy underdogs.

The meat is gone but the chew on bones

a seeming sustenance

for the now tied and tethered

to the stake of ripened age.

Throw the bones! The hungry need to eat

and ‘tis now the moulting season

of a love’s most perfect fit

that can’t go on and on

without the wholesome meat.

But I trust beyond this one lifetime

the voice of love will call me thrice

and supply the manner and the means

for true essential growth.

I trust but there’s luck in the party packs

and timing in the candy

and all the way to go to the tallest tree

before a satisfied recline

in the shade of happiness!

Other Poems by Helen

• Love Lives
• The heart
• At the edge of need
• In the woodwork
• Dream woman