An oasis in the city

There's a tiny courtyard squeezed inside terrace walls

Where I sit and have coffee in a secret garden

And reflect on the mirrored wall

...and enjoy the serenity in every corner.

A trompe-l'oeil leads me to this secret oasis

Where a comatosed cat sleeps on a leafy wall

And a semi-comatosed Pumpkin watches from above!

Here the doves are silent ... 

 And if I am very quiet, I can hear water trickling

As I drink in the details

And envy the soporific life of its owners

 Rahni and Taz...

For theirs is anything but a dog's life

Hidden amongst the petunias and nasturtiums!

Change and progress and the red pithos

In a little village in Crete an old red pithos stands sentinel-like 

at the foot of blue wooden shutters

Vainly trying to grow a rose bush.

Five years later,

in the little village in Crete the old red pithos still stands sentinel-like 

at the foot of blue wooden shutters

Still vainly trying to grow the rose bush!

Change and progress are not always everything!

A precious visitor

She blew in on the South wind
Settling on a branch, twisted dry with time

She found a home where she could rest

Camouflaged against the wall outside number 34

Perched atop gnarled branches in terracotta

Watched over by a Sage in sun-kissed grey

She'll stay until the next sea breeze, when
she'll continue her journey
only to pause at some other door.

© 2013 Francesca Muir

A beautiful friendship

They dance on shimmering sands

Their sun-kissed limbs glistening in the fading sun

Their limbs entwine

A friendship of old

Renewed on a foreign shore 

Laughing, they frolic in the waves

Hair flying, caught by sea spray

As if carried by unseen mischievous nymphs
 

Their joy is palpable

Their faces alive

And they share a beautiful friendship

That is pure gold!

For Alexandra and Maddy with love Frannie xx

© 2013 Francesca Muir

We're having a heatwave ...

Sun, sea and sand ...

the sibilance of a sweltering Sydney summer

Spades and shovels build sandcastles

Sarongs, sunhats and sunglasses are seldom abandoned

Sensational shade under a saturated sky

Silently summing up the strength to sail the seven seas

Stripes, stripes and more stripes are synonymous with this season

Sensational summer colours sit silently on a sizzling sand

Slip on a shirt

Slop on sunscreen

Slap on a sunhat

Seek shade

And slide on sunnies ...

So says the Aussie sun-smart slogan!

© 2013 Francesca Muir

If walls could speak

If walls could speak
they'd speak in whispers

of sad tales of orphans and delinquent girls lost

of convicts with gunpowder, quarrying stone

and prison views across the bay

of warehouses on water 
and winds which whistle down the Heads. 

They'd speak of Ship Builders and Joiners' shops

and of utter isolation and decay.

Of dark light pushing through

...of lonely gulls waiting for a mate

... and of freedom, broken by iron bars.

If walls could speak 

they'd echo broken spirits and endless summer days

followed by desolate nights.

They'd tell of tattered hearts amongst navy ships and dark shadows

... and of walls...
walls of sandstone
walls of brick
walls of iron 
walls of wood.

But walls don't speak here,

For you see ...

 it's all plainly written on their faces.

© 2013 Francesca Muir