ENGLAND by THE NATIONAL. Limerick by Michael Leach
A Michael Leach limerick recalls a precious moment.
A Michael Leach limerick recalls a precious moment.
before I left, I walked up to the boy and told him his music was divine; I was proud to have him with me.
I find myself on my own/in the Forum,/flying solo/at the first gig/Iāve ever dared/attend without a friend.
On a fresh midmorning, I alight my bus at the east end of Adelaideās CBD and proceed to speed walk along cracked concrete, as The Superjesusās track āNow and Thenā begins on my iPod.
This Labour Day,/I find myself walking/while listening/to Uncle Pat/by Ash.
well-stocked op shopā/she sifts thru clothes racks/to find/an alternative/while I scan CD racks
Three short, playful poems. Marriage, Elvis, Lennon and McCartney.
 Bendigo, May 2021  I fidget in my seat here in the middle of the second row of an intimate theatre in my birthplace of Bendigo.  I am here to see a local theatre company stage ten ten-minute plays, including one I wrote.  I am here with my immediate family, including my [...]
All I could think of , as she stood just a metre or two away, unflustered by betting deadlines, was her voice, her laugh, her brown eyes, her cascading hair, her full figure. And the inexperience of my heart (plus anoher vital organ).
Vin Maskell Melbourne, Midnight, November 29, 1982 On a piece of foolscap paper, at my desk in my single-bed bedroom or maybe at the small table in the little kitchen at the end of the long hallway, I wrote a little poem. Nothing special.