Carysfort of love


Can you hear the wood

golden strings

singing within

same story

different guitar

you touch it like magic

fingers made for this

bringing us other places

we haven’t seen before

locked up in our bubble

for far too long

what does the world look

like outside these known walls?

Easy to forget what was

has it ever even really been

losing your voice and memories

of us together

dancing under leaves

raindrops on your lashes

take me with you

or even better

don’t go away



Sweet memories of Sundays at Carysfort Street, where friends lived and gathered to play music, sing, paint, cook, drink chai, talk about life. A home filled with love, one of my favourite places in New Zealand and moments I cherish dearly.

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