Take me away from a world without color,
A world where life is dull and grey.
I want to swim through the ocean’s waves,
Where rainbows can frolic and play.

The sun’s rays shimmer off the water,
Leaving trails of gold, yellow, and red.
Beacons of light for me to follow 
To a new land where to lay my head.

I fly through the rolling waves,
Touching down on a spot of land.
I am lifted by arms of fountains 
And laid to rest on the pink sand.

Turtles scurry away from my hand. 
Birds fly around as they have fun.
The waves recede in their farewell dance,
Leaving me alone in the sun. 

Who lives on this small island?
It’s time for me to explore.
A hut of branches in a tree.
I must see if there is more. 

The steps are pretty steep,
I climb and step inside.
The room is small and dark. 
Who knows what it may hide?

I hear footsteps from the room beyond.
They’re coming closer to where I hide.
It’s too late to run for the door,
I must face whoever is inside. 

A man saunters into the room. 
Candles and two places set.
He throws me a big grin
As if I am his prized pet.

We both wait in silence.
He slowly moves toward me.
“I hope you like my surprise.”
I feel as cold as can be. 

I don’t like surprises.
Especially from him.
He keeps me at arms-length,
Not letting me in. 

I lower my eyes
From the fire in his eyes.
They’re consuming me alive,
I am burning from his lies. 

He makes an abrupt movement
And strides across the room.
He kisses me with great passion
Under the blood red moon. 





PINK SAND       

The sand so pink and soft
Keeps my spirits aloft.
The water so clear and blue,
I want to enjoy that too.
Sun brightening the day,
All I want to do is play.


Photo: Whelan Works



The sky burns orange.

Winds whip in a frenzy.

Waves rush in.

Birds flee the scene.

Palm trees bow their heads.

The sun retreats.

Say a prayer for us.









Full of worries and contradictions,

it blasts away any chance of peace.

Thoughts jumbled in cobwebs,

lining halls of utter despair.

Bells ring along curved walls,

warnings to take care.

One hole is filled

as another emerges.

A shovel can’t do the job,

won’t save me from my pride.

Sleep, be my savior,

refresh my state of mind.

Bring hope to this desert landscape,

full of worries and contradictions.


I walk through the soft sand.
Dip my toes into the ocean.
The cold water soothes me.
The sun hits my face.
The salty breeze ruffles my hair.
A perfect paradise.
Until I feel the pressure.
A hand tugs my leg.
It’s time to leave my...



I walk through the soft sand.
Dip my toes into the ocean.
The cold water soothes me.
The sun hits my face.
The salty breeze ruffles my hair.
A perfect paradise.
Until I feel the pressure.
A hand tugs my leg.
It’s time to leave my perfect fantasy.
Life has a way of interfering.
A demon rises from the ocean.
Clothing drips from its fingers.
I know what it is.
It’s the demon of laundry.
An ever-present and growing demon.
Will a stack of dishes be next?
Goodbye demons.
I’m going back to my fantasy.
I see dolphins swimming by the shore.
See you later.





A red glow lights the street,

falling right at our feet.

We pound the pavements in fright,

fleeing the force of the night.

Vibrations hit the ground

from thunder all around.

The street light sways and groans

as we head for our homes.

Who will save us from these creatures

that torment and won’t release us?

I can see the road ahead.

I hope it leads to my bed.

I can’t take another night

of this endless, losing fight.


THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist





The dance floor is full.

The guests twirl between statues.

Sad expressions etched into faces.

Tears flow down frosty cheeks.

An undercurrent of evil lies

beneath the music and gaiety.

Time to leave the perfect guests

and the frozen smiles.

Time to escape if one can.



Plumbers and Gasfitters Employees’ Union Building, Melbourne, Graeme Gunn, 1968-71.



The street lights refuse to glow on this dark night,

adding to my increasing shivers and fright.

I should not have agreed to come here

in darkness crippling me with fear.


Through the lit window, I spot a figure.

The shadow moves closer and grows bigger.

My hand lifts to grasp the railing,

then both my arms are flailing.


A bullet has grazed my left shoulder,

leaving the pain behind to smolder.

My right-hand reaches across to staunch the blood

as I turn to flee before my tears can flood.


I zigzag through the deserted streets of the town,

all the while praying that no others are around.

Life of a spy is not an easy one,

like a roller coaster without the fun.


Straight ahead stands another figure.

He signals for me not to linger.

My partner opens the passenger door for me.

I am on my way to get out of this scot-free.