Whare
 

I build our Whare
at night.
Each corner post 
I set with riverstone
and clay.
Each strong Kanuka Post
I beset with Kaha; with Mana
 

Manuka struts I bind
with Harakeke 
I entwine 
Taonga Dreams
I strap the binding 
with vigour; lust for
Te Po.
 

Nikau Fronds 
Platted; intertwined
conceal us; beneath us
Fine mats woven
with your long
gentle fingers,
on these we make love; we sleep
 

beneath the flaxen ceiling
enraptured, 
secure in the storm
I wrap you in Kanuka post
Honey, blood and flame.
Yes I yearn for the
fires of the whare
 

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(C) Copyright 2001
Doug Poole
All Rights Reserved