“Meditations”  by Celia Berrell



Drifting on a tranquil lake

of mottled hopes and patterned faith.

Feeling peace and tenderness,

amidst your lucid water-ness.


And like a caterpillar nigh,

transforming to a butterfly,

I know there is a part of me

transcending through infinity.



This poem was inspired by the painting Melting Transitions Rise by Sharon Davson.


All four poems and pictures will feature in the artist’s biography DAVSON Art with Love and Graditude scheduled for the printers later this year.

“Alpaca’s On Watch” by Andrew Carter

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Alpaca’s On Watch


Al Paca’s family is keen to observe

Farmer Pat’s cat, sitting undisturbed.

A quiet pussycat – without the hissing fit

Doesn’t spook alpacas – sometimes they spit.


She sits on the fence with feline finesse

Unblinking, purring, her name is Tess.

Tess watches too, so nothing’s amiss

On farmer Pat’s farm it is heavenly bliss.


Al Paca hums to keep his family calm

They respond in kind; Tess means no harm.

She sits like a queen, a creature of love

Never blinking an eye, heavens above.


Al Paca is tallest of these lookalike Llamas

He’s the father near the left in lighter pyjamas.

The fur is worth more than a culled herd for meat

Alpacas are lucrative – for fibre hard to beat.



Unlike Llamas which are larger working beasts

They’re not eaten like venison – dearest of feasts.

Alpacas weigh the same as a tasty deer

Yet Alpacas are rarely eaten, have no fear.

“Ginger Cats” by Toni Newell


Ginger Cats


Ginger cats are different,

From any other cat,

They’re fearless, stand their ground,

And that is just a fact.

Be they short or long haired,

Doesn’t make a difference,

When they feel threatened,

They come to their defence,

Staying very calm,

They don’t run away,

But remain motionless,

Challenging the threat that way.

‘Billy Joe’, my Retriever,

Doesn’t like any cat,

When he sees one anywhere,

He’s only focused on that.

And if it is a ‘ginger’,

I tell him not to toy,

For the ‘ginger’ would eat him alive.

And he’d be a sorry boy.”

“Burnt” by Jenny Erlanger




We’ve seen what a vengeful old planet can do

when it chooses to mount an attack.

The sky is no longer a pure sheet of blue

but a vile, toxic blanket of black.


These raging infernos have beggared belief

as they’ve flaunted their merciless force

and all round the world we’re united in grief

over trauma they’ve wrought in their course.


We mourn for the people who’ve already died

for the lives ripped apart at the seams,

for all the communities sadly denied

any chance of fulfilling their dreams.


The loss of our livestock and wildlife as well

has created a harrowing void

and as for the creatures surviving this hell,

their homes in the bush are destroyed.


It’s ever so hard to express the despair

that engulfs us right down to the core.

But we Aussies are tough and, as one, we’ll prepare

for whatever may next lie in store.