Sea Slugs

This world — we’ll never see the end of it.

So much beauty, above and below.

And just when you thought you’d seen it all,

up pops the Photographic Exhibition on Sea Slugs.

Slugs! The very name invites disdain, derision.

But these are something else: an artificer’s folly,

a frolic of design and colour, of quirky geometries

and improbable beauty — and there are 3000 varieties!

What practical use, what purpose, if not to delight?

Later I trawled through the depths of the web and emerged

staggering, reeling ; & that strange word, ‘nudibranch’

• pic courtesy of Wikipedia

God Must Love Larrikins

God must love larrikins.

He calls them home early

to be with Him.

Warnie, of course. the King of Spin

and some years earlier,

The Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin.

No one saw that coming.

Least of all, him.

A stingray!

A creature from the black lagoon!

Too soon. Too soon. Taken.

And Paul Walker, my favourite,

who taught me to live

fast and furious.

God took him too.

But the dictators and tyrants

are allowed to linger,

grow putrid..

If only He loved them a little more.

• pic courtesy of Pinterest by Kobe eReader

Thursdays

It’s such a relief for me, Thursdays.

It’s the only day I don’t shave.

It’s my let-it-all-hang-out day.

My slob day.

I wash but don’t shave.

I wear casual, loose fitting, clean.

I eat that extra slice of cake.

I don’t do gym, exercise.

I may break into a walk now and then,

but that’s it.

It’s Thursday.

Sometimes I wish every day was Thursday

but I keep that thought in check.

Didn’t God rest one day a week?

Mine’s Thursday.

Is this even a poem or a bunch of thoughts?

On any other day it wouldn’t pass muster.

But it’s Thursday, remember?

*have you got a favorite day?

A Thing of Beauty

Five skips in a row

is a thing

of beauty

says

Nik

in ‘Wakefield’

referring to skimming a flat rock

across the smooth

surface of a lake;

so too

is that bamboo toothbrush

I used this morning

light as those balsa wood gliders

I flew as a kid

over the paddocks

behind the school;

and those opening chords of ‘Sugar, Sugar’

like being tasered

by God

+pic courtesy of Wikipedia