Onboard the Rangitoto

How could I not have seen you

in the sea of a thousand faces?

Why did you not reach out to me

from the throng of swaying bodies?

Weeks the Rangitoto ploughed the ocean,

Southampton to the Antipodes

and our eyes never met.

I watched Wellington draw near

while with shaded eyes you viewed the dock.

Faces swam before me,

semaphore hands spelt welcome

but not for me, lone traveller.

Smiles lit the quayside,

shouts assaulted ears.

No-one called out to you.

Orderly fashion, the stampede began –

new land, new life.

Hands brushed, eyes locked, we smiled together.

New love.


©Chris Nedahl 2012DSCF0169


After the last bomb

who will remember past pride?

Who will be told stories of greatness?

Young men are dead,

or fled, their ears deaf

to old men’s memories.

Rippling ribbons weave

along cratered roads.

Women, children, searching –

for anything…

Magnificent once, a city crumbled

beneath their feet.

Headless men, flesh and stone,

testament to unspeakable

demons of devastation.

Ancient history violated

never to be revived –

today a stain

never to be wiped away.

In memory of the fallen,

rise phoenix-like,

hope, your standard

borne high, defiant

against vile enemies.





Rough hands

red with cold

pinch wood

to waxed cord.




‘gainst harsh wind.

Damp cheeks

eyes pressed tight

tears suppressed.





Do not abide in the past,

it destroys the now.

Do not assume the future,

it denies the present.

Heart lingering,

future questing,

rejecting happiness

gifted for today.

Depression, doom,

a kismet of failure,

life’s lot

to wallow in the gloom.

Live the moment,

blessed new dawn,

history buried,

future unwritten.

Yesterday cannot be altered,

tomorrow not fashioned.

Today is yours –

shape, embrace,



© ChrisNedahlDecember2015DSCF7132.JPG