Angele Toomey Poetry

Today it feels like Spring has finally sprung! The sky is clear blue, the warmth of the sun gently diffused by a cool breeze.

Neighbours have tidied their lawnsand are now cranking up their favourite tunes as BBQs are given a post-winter scrub done in preparation for their first firing up in months. The only other sound competing with Fat Freddy’s Drop (https://www.fatfreddysdrop.com/) is the vigorous chorus provided by flock of tui, pīwakawaka and kererū.

Today reminds me of a day about five years ago when I reclined into the deck chair I had made from upcycled pallet wood, and wrote the following poem (the poem is in my book Harbour).

Sunday Afternoon
I lean back into the cradling arms of the old deck chair 
Tired wood releases a creaky sigh
Warm sunshine blankets the afternoon. 
The sounds of suburbia provide a 2-stroke soundtrack
The clear weather has inspired a new level of industry 
respectable neighbours clear winter weeds and  
trim innocent hedges into forced conformity.  
I have manufactured an excuse for a temporary sunbathed moment  
Thoughts barely form as I recline into domestic bliss.