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Sarah Aileen
New Zealand

Taipari O Maraea - Penny Howard
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Sarah Aileen is a budding writer from inner city Christchurch where she lives with her husband and two naughty cats! Her background is cooking, as a qualified chef of eleven years. She is a novice in the writing world, but is continually inspired by the great writers around her, and draws from her surroundings to soothe her soul
from the daily grind of eight til five. Sarah also spends time at the Hagley Writers' Institute.
Oh Deer!


Right, my darlings,
kitties and bunnies!
Shall we start?
Her yellow vest warms
the chair with her
biking gear.

A long, lovely, locket
lives below the hollow
of her rabbit hole.
Silver, straightened,
chiffon floats around
her face, as red frames
are fondled between
fingers that frond
a fox.

A Poet of op shops,
charity barns and Merivale
Sallies stores.
She caresses quirky
scarfs, a jacket or maybe
a shawl. It needs pockets,
lace, velcro or buttons!
Sweet buttons.

McDonald’s provides
a fox hole for bunting
babies and little ladies
in tan, suede, Yak coats.

You should send it away!

Yes.






My Father the Prison Lumberjack


At the ferry a terracotta wicker chair sits in view, Southerly peaks condense to ripples on a distant canvas while silence tugs at the dull grey stars overhead. Tears shimmer under night’s torch where a pillow was found in her mouth, behind the mantle. A guilty axe hurled behind the shed, in full view of the courtroom juror. Humming scarlet pines draw reflection in the lumberjack’s axe as he calls, ‘one, two, three, four, five. Clear down below, she’s gonna drop!’ Stumps cry as they sit in raped faded soil. A fox hides in bushels while his house falls, Small rats scatter along the canopy floor searching for underground parking. The fox laughs at the moon, now blackened by clouds. No more chopping tonight from a lumberjack in an orange one piece suit, shackled to the weapon. A life behind barred windows waits as the judge’s pen hovers over the verdict. Seedlings wiggle their toes between bloodied stones as pine cones weep at their parent’s feet. A new beginning to a horror filmed night as my Mother endured. The cruel moon winks at the fox as he licks his wounded paw.


Time to hunt.







Men of Magic


Flagons of red wine dance amongst ripe cheese.
Mystical Magi’s muster around mats as
Samurais seize  seismic  swords to swing
a mouse crawls under the mustard velour armchair.

Mystical Magi’s muster around mats,
unwashed wafts of rotting feet.
A mouse crawls under the mustard velour armchair
where unseen cracks form mice lineage.

Unwashed wafts of rotting feet,
an old man grunts as he rises from the floor.
Unseen cracks form mice lineage,
short tails drag along polished wooden floor boards.

An old man grunts as he rises from the floor.
Shoes line the doorway, feet armor display as
short tails drag along polished wooden floor boards.
No one speaks of rodents, instead they toast.





Ups and Downs of a Magician’s Assistant


He said it wasn’t going to hurt
I believed him

He said don’t close your eyes
I didn’t

He said hold on tight and don’t let go
I dug my nails in to his sides

He told me he wouldn’t drop me
The wooden floor left a bruise

They said it was meant to be
I was three months pregnant

It started with a kiss behind red velour curtains
The bitter taste remains

Red rose displayed
You feed me strawberries
In between teeth




Ted does Ballet


On the surface of the teal ocean his toes point to a tip on cue
between strokes he pauses to pirouette among small children
as they learn to swim with orange water wings

he takes a break to chase a striped, candy red, ball along the sand
stops to sniff crushed cola cans & empty ice cream wrappers
in case they could sweeten his lips without weighing on his hips

flexing toes stretch between ball throws for limber falls
Ted wears slippers when no one is home
dressed in a white netted tutu skirt
his singlet stretched over little grey paws

Brushed velvet ears prick at the sound of a whistle
his coats gleams as he twists & turns in the cool beach breeze
long licks of lace bound paws with baby pink ribbon

Ted does ballet behind closed doors