"Her summers, bold, predominantly gold
Now winters scold; so callously cold
Her autumn, she said, would soon bear fruit
Once bitten must follow the piper's flute
Whose spring, refined, with peppermint and thyme
Awaits her gently with verses and rhyme"


Above an excerpt from my poem 'Only A Boy' from 2015, written for Brooke when became Ill (poem of the month), in conjunction with a grandson she loved so very much and was source for most of her late work. She fought long and hard, and was never far from our thoughts. Mother here for a long while, she once told an author to "listen to RG's rhythm in poetry"...She bid me continue with audio, as then just a passing experiment...once telling me she played my audio through speakers loud. What more could any author ask from another author? There was a deep extreme respect and love for this little lady...and so shall that continue.

With heavy heart, I say:
Goodbye my dear friend RIP..though gone, not forgotten.
God Bless you.

Also my respects for the passing of the late, Michael Cahill.

WHENCE= from which place, from where it came
PETRICHOR= the sweet smell after rain on warm ground
BELAY= bind, tied (with rope) to something, fester
Brackish= salty
HEADY=potent, intoxicating
Amiable= friendly
AFIELD=in the distance
AMBIGUITY= , deceiving, unclear
FORBODING= fearful expectation or anticipation, pemonition

This poem is written with an open syllable count. Please allow your prefernce for reading, with audio or silent. Mute volume for silent read.
MUSIC, and fantastic flute, from my friend and composer, the fantastic Kerri Powles.

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