Lorraine's Poems

The soft lap of water
on the wooden boat,
the rustle of leaves
on the river bank,
a pale orange glow
as the sun breaks free.
My turn in the fishing boat with Dad.

Birds wake.
Magpies warble
kookaburras laugh
white cockatoos greet the morning.
Chorus on still water.
My turn in the fishing boat with Dad.

Stillness interrupted
by the pull on the line
the whirr of the reel
the splash of the fish.
My turn in the fishing boat with Dad