Paul Williamson

 

       is an Australian poet who has published on a broad range

       of topics in numerous magazines and e-zines in Australia,

       New Zealand, USA, Canada, Japan and the UK.                    

 

       Collections

       Along the Forest Corridor

       A Hint of Eden

       Ties to Red Hill

       Edge of Southern Bright

       To the Spice Islands

       The DNA Bookshelf

       Moments from Red Hill

      

      

 

       Availability

       Along the Forest Corridor, A Hint of Eden and Edge of

       Southern Bright are available via the Ginninderra Press

       web site. Copies of the books can also be obtained from

       the Book Cow Bookshop, Kingston or on Amazon Kindle.  

       Moments from Red Hill and Ties to Red Hill can be 

       found via redhillregenerators.org.au. 

       Botanical Bookshop ACT has Along the Forest Corridor

       and Ties to Red Hill.

                                                                      

       Some poems

      

        A Hint of Eden                                                                       

 

        At the coastal edge south of Batemans Bay

        Humpback whales feed and breech in Springtime

        as fishing fleets work cobalt depths

        filling stores and markets with technicolour catches

        and oyster farms stretch on light turquoise

        near mangrove flats and sandy bays.

        In Summer, storms send racing yachts limping to port

        and grind beaches from rock faces.

 

        Onshore below the misty escarpment clothed with bush

        near Moruya, Bodalla, Narooma and Bermagui

        dairy herds gift cream for cheese                                                                      

        beef cattle fatten, sheep give wool

        log-laden trucks rattle the highway.                                                                 

        artists work and diversely create

        hippies sell in startling colour

        retirees and Centrelink customers settle seaside

        as tourism firms the towns.

 

        The Yuin Nation Salt Water people remain

        but not now in cool-fired hunting landscapes.

        Now Summer brings hot blazes to eucalypts

        crowded by casuarinas, vines and wattle.

        Yet in the early autumn after the summer tourist frenzy

        the coastal strip still conjures thoughts of Eden.   

 

        Published in Quadrant

     

                                                                                                                                       

              Near the Edge

       

        Above the road is a rusted sheet iron stable

        with a horse outside; an image from past scattered farms

        near where iron stained clay banks stretched Sydney’s water supply

        piped from a century ago. Father worked a stint there.

 

        On the downhill side market stalls crowd

        the double drive-in theatre normally vacant in daylight.

        Antiques are sold, trash and treasure, pets

        and greasy food, within surfing music from an ageing band.

 

        Polite people slowly trawl technicolour alleys.

        Spanish speaking South Americans offer jewellery;

        a too-thin man sells cassettes;

        families of heavy islanders scan for bargains;

 

        slender African youths flaunt jaunty masking walks

        while an old man and woman show horror-hinting faces;

        Muslim fathers herd sons, all in white robes

        while up the road the English theme pub draws another crowd.  

 

        Published in Quadrant

 

 

        at a moment                                                                               

        when my eyes long                                                                      

        to drift

        seeking leafy hues

        city lights surround                                                                         

 

        Published in Ribbons (US)

 

        

         Starlight

         

          The noise is curious

          I am drawn to look

          to ghost through the garden

          in early morning night

          with no moon

          or electric light

          with no clouds or factory haze.

 

           Constellations are bright

           across the acrylic sky.

           Above the horizon a red star

           hovers like a sentry

           while night shines half-day from starlight.

 

            I have seen this sky before

            above a country river.

 

            Published in Magic Cat (UK)

 

                 Contact:  paul@paulwilliamson.net

                 

                 

                  Copyright: Poems on this website can be copied for private use but not for

                  any other purpose without permission  of the author. This is

                  required by copyright law.