Song for Martha

for Martha Root

By a rainbow tree in Honolulu
Rainbow languages are gently flowing
Singing, “Martha board your next canoe”
Whether she knows the next bend’s turning
Her heart is filled with a simple yearning

She is drawn to follow every rainbow
Searching the mysteries of its soul
On every continent she can only sing
Filled to the brim with her love of Him
Drawn on and on to where the next path is going

The red hues of her sacrifice growing
Her will with others does not always intertwine
But still on and on she rainbow dances
On boats, canoes, ferries aeroplanes and trains

Each stop is a spirit travel line
That feels itself drawn to the divine
On a train bound for glory
There’s the beginning of her next story

In each rioting mob within places of unrest
She tries to see glimmers of light
The dawn of orange and yellow in her sight
In her pale blue silk dress and brown overcoat
Accompanied by one small suitcase full mostly of books

She’ll travel the endless greens
On her way to visit Queen Marie.

(c) June Perkins

(Published in Bahai World Order)


clouds, waves, ocean2
It’s not plain sailing
being the gate
the door so people
can see the Promised one is on his way.
It’s going to have times when
the truth is castaway
as people sit on the islands of their
history unable to see the raft he brings
And sometimes when the truth is clearer than day
there are those who throw water on the lamp’s flame
thinking they can make it go out.
They claim he is mad
deranged, traitor – words to those that know him well
cut deep like wounds
when they know he is Divine
All he brings is a way to make us castaway
earthly desire, prejudice and hate
to see more purely our own destiny and light
our soul’s flame.
By June Perkins
 From a Collection in progress, Virtues Hands

First Light

Circles of Light

First light
soft peach spreading over earth’s
Green skin.

Glimmerings of light
promise warmth to bathe in.

Monochromes of green
wash away the peach light spilling

New ways spreading in seeds
planted soul by Soul.

Soul catching light
drinking it in
breathing it out.

Mulla Husayn has woken
to taste the first light.


By June Perkins
- From a collection in progress – Virtues Hands

Sister Basket

for Poetess Tahirih

My sister made me a basket
Woven in a rainbow garden
Where petals soft and warm
Didn’t want to fade in the sun.

She could enchant any carpet snake
Yellow or black
They’re still swaying to her music’s tack
Forward and back, forward and back.

Light sang of colours woven into a spirit kite
Skimming the river of rainbow sisters everywhere.

Her basket of poetry was tossed
Into the centre of the sun
There it burnt strong and true
Until red flames became blue.

The Faith in her basket
Said “Send me to the sky
I’ll come back like a Phoenix just you wait”

She danced around a square and found
She couldn’t really fit.
She found a circle and could not

But nine doors of a temple opened out
And she found a basket woven in a daisy,
Wrapped in a rose.

It was no time to pose
No time to fade in the sun.

She sang a song that spiralled out
Into her rainbow garden
Left petals soft and warm
On the path that she first laid there.

(c) June Perkins

Rediscovering Winter

Originally posted on Pearlz Dreaming:

I haven’t lived in winter for a long time.
When I searched my flickr photographs for cold I found only four, and for winter, none.
I had better luck with rainy.
A new subject for photography as we head into Autumn.


Mother in a Cocoon

Unfolding ripples of winter
whispers arrival’s soon

out come layered garments
wrapping around tender skin
every garment feels too thin

Bye bye butterflies
sunlight splash on takeaway cups
warm rim

(c) June Perkins, word and inmage

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When I pass

Originally posted on Ripple Poetry:

Always behind
seeking to capture textures of a family walk
mushrooms in a tree stump

When I pass
is this one of the images that will flash before me?


When I pass will I see
reality lights of cane and sunset
flickering orange, green merging and
realise my soul is
an interconnection of light to light memories
people there flicker
into lamps of their soul


The lamp of my soul
becomes zen of light and circles
all colours
and none
is this what souls look like
when we pass and go to meet our loved ones?


(c) June Perkins, images and words.

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Weaving Sunset


Weaving Sunset – June Perkins

for sunset
to weave me
into memory
of her triumphant story

songs of sore fingers
waiting for mercy’s respite

is sunset’s daughter
sunrise’s sister
weaving freedom’s future

(c) June Perkins


A Country Life – A photo book about the magic of country life

Originally posted on Gumbootspearlz Photography:


A country life is a time to dream in the cane, save turtles, make music, play Robin Hood, see butterflies, frogs and croc nests.

A full colour photo book, 54 pages.  18cmX18cm (small square) lustre finish paper.

You can purchase a Country Life from BLURB.
There is an eversion as well only for ipad or ibooks at this stage. BLURB EVERSION A COUNTRY LIFE.

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Originally posted on Ripple Poetry:


Broken Church – June Perkins

There’s a lady with coloured birds
who knows how to breathe
long deep breaths
from head to toe
all through her body.

She told me ‘it is easy to take the
thoughts and put them aside
good or indifferent, stressed or
just breathe

in and out watching the breath
aware of the presence of that
which keeps us alive
taking in the oxygen
forgetting all else but this

She tells us not to sleep
as we become aware of each toe
and each part of our hand

And our chest rising and falling
and the thoughts are not welling up stillness,
except for the breath

But someone is snoring because
she has become so calm
but that is alright too
because she is free for
a moment

From the broken tarp rooves
wind gusts
insurance companies
and all that stuff

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