
silver sixpences
mixed into grandma’s pudding
how will we find
our treasure in store-bought
pies and takeaway chickens?
© Julie Thorndyke

silver sixpences
mixed into grandma’s pudding
how will we find
our treasure in store-bought
pies and takeaway chickens?
© Julie Thorndyke

bush walk
on an aged trunk
of scribbly bark
the story of this ginko
has already been written
Julie Thorndyke
First published in Eucalypt 1 2006
a sequence by Jan Dean and Julie Thorndyke
the road is long
the river wide, the sky high
no need to fear
life has many favours
when the wind is at your back
in this cave
there is no hint
of frost, sleet or gale—
the fire heats my toes
and sends stories to tell
fireside fingers
with wiggling toes cast shadows—
the first cinema
was a screen flickering
animals on a stone wall
horned monsters
shriek in the moonless night
she stokes red embers,
traces charcoal figures
of hunter and prey on limestone
little remains
of their victory dance
beneath rubble
tangled hair, a bone gnawed bare
but thrills of a kill linger
sounds of footsteps
sliding over loose gravel—
a reptile skin
dry and curled
too large for any snake
muffled drumbeats
send warnings near and far
ignored by sly ones
a cape of scales comes forth
on the beast of prophesy
lightning comes
as if by his command—
this night, children
pant with fear, women
look over their shoulders
few understand
why men and women rise
again and again
to defy their fate, leaving
torn petals, squashed seeds
castaways
on this voyage of life—
together we may
travel even further
than we have dreamed
© Jan Dean and Julie Thorndyke
first published LYNX 27:3 October 2012
the transparent weave
of this vintage tea-cloth
my fragile dreams
still hand-dried and polished
by the faded green linen
Julie Thorndyke
first published by Kirsten Cliff in Swimming in Lines of Haiku 2012
my lord, my peace
I long for you–
in these familiar places
in all the absent faces
I look for you
driving through
deeply shaded avenues
pockets of truth
shadow-hidden between
bright shards of sunlight
Julie Thorndyke
first published in Eureka Street Vol 19 No 21 2009
It is always great to find a congenial place in which to write. Too easy, if at home, to spend time doing the domestic tasks that return, week after week. The washing, the tidying, the ironing…
Writing tends to take last priority.
Recently I heard about Muse Gallery opening at Castle Hill, so I went along to see the work of local artists on display. Tucked away in an industrial estate, in a warehouse space transformed by Mary Louise into a vibrant gallery, I knew instantly that this was a place to which I would return. When I learnt that there was a café opening in the gallery, I was hooked. An artist and wordsmith herself, Mary Louise has generously allowed me to take on the role of Café Poet.
I am looking forward to many hours enjoying the work of our local visual artists, sipping a coffee, and scribbling away.

when it all seems
simply too much to bear –
the cool blue ocean
edged with lapis-lazuli,
velvet fingers of white foam
— Julie Thorndyke
Eucalypt Issue 16, 2014

blue shadows ache
with ancient memory beyond this
threshold of longing—
heavy with destiny, waiting
for the traveller to arrive
have you not learned
tomorrow comes, regardless?
lie with me, my love
and dream
on this shared pillow
more fragrant
than spring flowers, the scent
of my lover’s arms—
lingering this morning
in a mist of autumn dreams
for a moment,
a snatch of song
I almost remember…
somewhere, in my memory
also the press of your skin
© Julie Thorndyke 2015. All rights reserved.