Poems by James Irvine

Profit from sales of Photopoems & Poetry Pics support sponsoring

under-privileged students through the Smith Family appeal Aust.

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This website, irvine-james.com is dedicated to my Mother:-

Marina Kent Irvine (Nee Christie). Who always encouraged my creative writing and believed that if we are willing, we can find our way.  

 

Short stories, 3DPoetry, Poetpics, Photopoetry & philosophy by James Irvine

Created with Wix.com  Email:  jgi1962007@gmail.com

 

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Tell me your story please!

March 15, 2019

A whisper of smoke, is all the life that is left in our tree,

once a Goliath, now a mere smouldering log next to me.

Flames ravaged your heart, bringing you to your knees;

Ash Wednesday’s fire, devastating, as your soul it seized.

Once grand and tall, in all your glory, you proudly stood,

reduced to this smouldering stump, from burning wood.

With your last whisper, tell me your sad story please;

a Eulogy from the King, of the great valley of trees. . .

 

  My canopy a landmark on this the highest of hills;

  I governed vast lands, safe from loggers and mills.

  For hundreds of years, our branches they grew;

  we shaded the lives, of many more than a few.

  Koalas, Kookaburras, man and reptiles too;

  each one of them visited my priceless view

  How could anyone spoil all that represents freedom?

  When a butt by a road, lit up God’s Garden of Eden!

  Many years of drying winds, my leaves no longer green,

  I feared what had started, was worse than I had ever seen.

  Brothers lay there helpless, in the path of winds and fire;

  thirsty trunks did burst with heat, obliterating all desire.

  Giant fireballs grew in size, relentless, roaring like a gale;

  sadly fuel for an inferno, as it approached us with full sail.

  The unsuspecting family, within their modest timber shrine,

  they often enjoyed my lovely shade; today was the last time!

  The hillside just erupted; there was nowhere to escape;

  this manmade disaster was surely environmental rape!

  Too late for fire prevention, no fire pump could fight;

  from once a peaceful paradise, to this baron ugly sight.

 

..So as the final embers flicker, and the haze begins to clear,

I just cannot believe my eyes , or prevent a farewell tear.

 

 

 

 

  • By combining Poetry into a photograph you get POETPICS or PHOTOPOETRY.

  • A phrase of philosophy integrated into a photograph = PHILOETRY

  • Donate to the Smith family appeal via the link or buy an A4 / A3 size Glossy ‘Poetpic’ 

  • Search for my auto signature © James Irvine (hidden within Poetry Photographs)

  • See how this and other poems play a part in the Story 'Finding Harvey’, crafting another dimension of creative writing = 3D-Poetry.​

 

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January 12, 2019

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