Ivy

The stony wet wall, moving and alive. Pointille of carmine, cobalt and emerald green in the breeze, picking up the organic mustiness of the decaying, damp, dead leaves underneath. The ivy clings to the wall to grow and to expand. Over time the ivy and the wall become one, intrinsically linked. To pull the ivy off the wall will bring down the wall with it.

'The story'

"Tell me 'The story' Dad. I love it so much Daddy!"
Sarah's father sighed. It wasn't so much an exasperated sigh as she interpreted, it was a sadness in him, a loss.
Speaking of his now long gone love was like digging up fragile fossils. Delicate and beautiful, lovely private treasures. All the flesh long gone and only the frames remain and if you embrace them too firmly they'll collapse and be lost forever.
And at these times when Sarah, a splitting image of her mother demands that he relive when he first met Ailsa he feels less than complete.
They say that amputees go to use their missing limb and they never fully comprehend that it's gone forever. He still went to talk to Ailsa hold her hand and buy her favourite flowers.
But Andrew then smiles to his daughter.
"It was a lovely balmy September night in the mountains. Crediton Hall was decked out beautifully with blue and white balloons.
"The lemon tree to the side was full of white flowers and small green fruit.
"Your mother was sitting on the steps under the lemon tree.
"She wore a loose floral dress that she wasn't too comfortable in, and wore riding boots and her hair out, and it was a little bit messy."
By now Andrew is a bit more relaxed and getting caught up in the story himself. Five years worth of wrinkles dissapear and a youthful colour returns to his cheeks.
"We danced all night, quite clumsily but happily.
"The whole town was there that night."
Eugella is a dairy town still now. It has rolling green hills, hot summers and cool crisp winters. Winter was Sarah's favourite time of year. The hills were often covered in a misty doona for days on end.
"We were the talk of the town from then on" he continued "We went horse riding every weekend for ten months and on one Saturday morning when the mist was still low and we were rugged up in woollen jumpers I asked her to marry me.
"She dismounted, and so did I, and we walked hand in hand with the horses travelling behind us all the way home. That was her way of saying 'yes' you see"
Sarah, at the age of seven went to sleep feeling she knew he mother just that little bit more.
Her father went and sat near the fire with a scotch in his hand.

Imperfection

I do not wish for flawlessness
In either you or me
Because I do not find beauty
In the unmarked and untouched
There is not the earthliness
The honesty and wholeness
I do not wish for perfection
In either of us
Because it's not what joins us
So, I celebrate your imperfection
And my flaws
It's what draws
Us together
As a community
As dear friends
As families

Lovestone

A lovestone
Is not a stone
It's not another person
And it is never a marriage
It is the hope in a heart
An acceptance of loss
Along with patience
And continuing to grow
And taste
And feel
So that this hope
Has somewhere to cling to
To hold onto
And grow
And call a home

Distance

The distance
Between love and in love
Is perhaps so minute
that a magnifying glass
Doesn't have a chance
Of knowing for sure
But, to be sure
It's worth the risk
To see how close it gets
Because perhaps
One day
Those jigsaw pieces
Will fit perfectly
Making a magical picture
Seamless
No distance