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Michele Fermanis-Winward Poem
The Memory of Lemon Juice, Gaza 2024
The scent of leaves
we placed between our clothes
no moths would dare to eat
but these we left behind
the fruit we sliced, summer ripe
packed in salt and sealed
preserved for later use
among the rubble of our home
my mother squeezed one each day
the drink she said
which gave her strength
but did not save her from the blast
before the bombs began
no home appeared complete
without its lemon tree
we cannot see where ours once grew
now we live in tents
wait hours in line for rice and mash
with our battered begging tins
the only things we own today
we talk and dream of food
recall the taste we crave
of boughs weighed down with fruit
from the tree that blessed our lives.
Copyright © Michele Fermanis-Winward | Year Posted 2024
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Michele Fermanis-Winward Poem
The Bitter Soil, Gaza 2024
Earth, Gaia, mother of us all
wars defile her sacred gifts
we sow the dead like seeds
reap a harvest from our guns
in this shattered land
charred by hate and want
hospitals plant mass graves
no dignity in these deaths
infants wrapped side by side
flowers of their native dirt
plucked newborn buds
where only wreaths are grown.
Copyright © Michele Fermanis-Winward | Year Posted 2024
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Michele Fermanis-Winward Poem
A Prayer for Poetry
Our ears are closed
made deaf by greater powers
the ones who believe
Palestine offers us no art
its people have no right
to share in our world
writers cannot bloom
among the falling bombs
blood and shattered bones
are not the soil they need
phones no longer ring
and paper can’t be found
poets write inside
the lids of their eyes
hum verses to themselves
to drown the noise of guns
each one holds a prayer
their death will be clean
but through the dust
the crash of falling homes
art will find its breath
reach for the light and shout
spread vibrant leaves above
the rubble of today.
Copyright © Michele Fermanis-Winward | Year Posted 2024
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Michele Fermanis-Winward Poem
Unseasonal
Leaves shuffle on their stems
fall onto ones which fell before
not yet a storm of Autumn tints
those will blaze in a month
these are an early shedding host
that leave before the cold appears
in months of heat and sweaty brows
what signal do they heed
still green among the fallen fruit
now turning into soft brown dirt
as fresh shoots spring into the light
rosebuds plump in April sun
no hint of cooler nights to come
our evenings set to dine outside
with singlet days of Summer skies
this pleasure now declines
too long, too wet, too hot we cry
as humans always must complain
the tropics stretching south to us
our discomfort metres rise
none can say we’ve time to burn
or urge us spin the wheel and wait
the dial is set for our demise
for life to build a kinder race.
Copyright © Michele Fermanis-Winward | Year Posted 2024
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Michele Fermanis-Winward Poem
The Chinese Pistachia
You came to us
a fragile seedling child
with so many names
that did not fit
your grace and lithefulness
each season of your growth
and vibrant orange change
I feared you’d not survive
the harshness of our home
its frost and stoney ground
but here you stand today
outside my dining room
where I can watch
the play of sun and cloud
upon your arching stems
you flex against our storms
your delicate attire
belies a stubbornness
one ruby fruit that fell to earth
and now I know your name.
Copyright © Michele Fermanis-Winward | Year Posted 2024
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Michele Fermanis-Winward Poem
Enchantment
Love is not the opposite of hate
that fiery passion
which turns against our heart
like a python through the blood
constricting life
love is what we yearn for
to create delicious selves
the flavouring in our lives
it is a thief that creeps upon us
or steals us from the start
of all the humours
love believes itself supreme
the drug we cannot do without
we are joyful in its midst
or a victim of its curse.
Copyright © Michele Fermanis-Winward | Year Posted 2024
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Michele Fermanis-Winward Poem
Each morning as I wake
my eyes will seek the sky
be it blue or heavy overcast
my spirit lifts in flight -
to behold the natural world
is a miracle of being
when I reach my final hour
let the light touch my skin
no shadow’s cloying weight
give me a room bathed in sun
or a view of rain quenched earth
trees flush with living green
let it be an ordinary day
familiar as I’ve often spent
with nothing overwrought -
a bird may cry overhead
perhaps some errant clouds
like me passing out of sight.
Copyright © Michele Fermanis-Winward | Year Posted 2024
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Michele Fermanis-Winward Poem
Unseaworthy
I creak like an old ferry
coming in to meet the wharf
mindful of less agile passengers
but like a wayward skiff
my thoughts soon override the pier
bounce against its rails, veer off
impatient with each lurch and bump
engines churn, make the waters flounce
I want to glide, admire my wake
I’m taking longer at drydock
and can’t maintain this tight routine
too many layers patch my hull
beneath the waterline, barnacles itch
and I can feel those worms at work
I’m eager for an obscure berth.
Copyright © Michele Fermanis-Winward | Year Posted 2024
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Michele Fermanis-Winward Poem
The Passion
It was a burning need
the desire to hold and hoard
not cars or rare antiques
but small and natural things
coloured stones from a beach
pales driftwood’s sculpted forms
parrots’ feathers of every hue
and discarded skin of a snake
such wonders of diversity
a bower built of treasured finds
until they overwhelmed my home
overtook the room for me.
Copyright © Michele Fermanis-Winward | Year Posted 2024
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Michele Fermanis-Winward Poem
On Dreaming
They are butterfly wings
delicate and fragile thoughts
mere wisps of memory -
ideas strung like gossamer
between the branches of our minds
embrace this gentle play
daydreamers frittering time
too soon the norms of turbulence
will weight the hours we spend -
snatch joy where you can.
Copyright © Michele Fermanis-Winward | Year Posted 2024
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