Real Friends

Real friends share their wine –
generously now yours and mine,

no street encounters brief,
no fleeting greeting
of a windy leaf,

they’re the caring kind
who’ll stop and ask if we’re fine,

and their long goodbyes make
you realise that real friends are easy to define –

they’re the ones that give you their time.

Sugar River

Fish shaped sweets
and sticky treats
swim in a current jam,

sherbet swans save
drowning bon bons, in
rapids of fruit cake and marzipan,

there’s gingerbread fishermen
with rods of candy sticks,
that cast their lines of liquorice lace
in a whirlpool of pick n’ mix,

driftwood tarts and pastry parts
float in a stream of fizzy pops, as
jelly babies row in custard boats
with oars of strawberry lollypops,

through trifle rums, ice cream runs,
biscuit crumbs and runny yum yums,

meander splash the chocolate muds
in a soft caramel of lashing floods,

and riverbanks they brace and quiver,
but love the taste of the sugar river –
always.