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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti


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Author Topic: Victoria Barracks  (Read 1928 times)
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« on: October 31, 2007, 07:58:38 AM »

Victoria Barracks

Foundations laid
building commenced 1861
on the central and western wing,
the east begun
in the 1870's
home for officers and
senior N.C.O's
Artillery from the first world war
painted a sandy yellow
guards the heavy doorways
to this home of the brass
Unsure what it does
these days
But its secrets lie hidden
beneath a camouflage of greenery
creepers that have ingrained
into the ordered bluestone bricks
A fence surrounds
thick as the muscles of a circus iron man

At the gate
men are guarding
in irridescent
yellowy green
not letting anyone
or anything
with out a reason
there are tours
Wednesdays at nine thirty and one
and Sundays afternoons at two
they'll show you around
let you see enough
but they'll keep the secrets hidden
beneath the green camouflage
of the creeping vines

additions to the grounds look like the 30's or 40's
deep brown brick
and those windows that have a thin handle
like a pointing stick
where you fit the spigot into the hole
it determines the amount that the window opens
These windows are made of frosted glass
so old that mould has formed a compass
around the perimeter
if your were trying to get out of there
you might try to follow

this is not the secret part
hidden by the camouflage of vines
this is on a different street
around the corner.
Further on
tennis courts
where personnel will do
their weekly exercise ritual
as defined in standing orders
in the military there are clearly deliniated borders
of what will and will not be done
do our lives need
some of that?
are we too free?
should we be grateful to the military for our freedom?
for the lives that were lost
for the liberty we won
for the work of Victoria barracks
in preserving the Kingdom?

Across St.Kilda Road
Jacarrandas are in bloom
I pick up a petal
that has helicoptered to freedom
a flower
from this out of place tree
it is rubbery
baby cheeks
young lovers
all these things
are brought to mind
as I hold the petal of freedom
in my hand
« Last Edit: October 31, 2007, 08:09:49 AM by Keats » Logged
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