Horizon's wall is beaded with a string of golden pearls.
Autumn's grass is dotted with dew drops
As a mountain morn unfurls.
I long to stand tip toe
On a canyon's wide rim,
Reach my hand into the pockets of heaven
That's filled to the brim
With a marmalade sun and a buttermilk sky
While marshmallow clouds
Drift slowly on by.
I'm on top of a mountain
That seems like world's end!
I raise my arms high
And I'm caught by the wind!
I'm rocked and I'm cradled
And I hear lullabies
Fed sweetly on what angels feast upon...
A marmalade sun and a buttermilk sky.
And come a day's end the sun is like
a glaze of honey that coats the sky...
As sun-toasted marshmallow clouds
Drift casually on by...
That marmalade sun and that buttermilk sky.
Questions, unquestioned discoveries, and answers in parable and rhyme…. This collection records a journey starting with a 1960s retrospective and the first man on the moon, moving to a new millennium welcomed in with a terrorist spin, family crises,
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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