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Whare

Doug Poole

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