Said in spun silver : a treasury of childhood stories, poetry, nonsense verse and pictures from the 1980s

Abstract

Imagine you are a seabird. Ascend into the sky's domed ceiling. The coast unfurls beneath you like a charcoal ribbon binding the Tasman Sea to the pleated emerald skirt of Mt. Taranaki. From here you will see patchwork paddocks spread upon laharic knolls and numerous rivers-silver fluvial threads unravelling towards the sea. Wheel downwards and you will see a port town. Gathered at the south end of the settlement are the Sugar Loaves, Paritutu rock and the manmade Chimney. Glide over the city and behold minor marvels: a pirate ship sitting high and dry at a children's playground; a white stag sprouting lichen, perched above a pub; and a fountain in an empty pedestrian mall, water fizzing through the mouths of Grecian men. At the north end of the town, circle on a warm current towards the beach and smell the baby oil smeared onto to the legs of teenage girls as they flick lusty glances at the lifesavers. See the small girl prancing on the shore. Frolicking so intensely that she may spew her lunch of chicken chippies and a jelly tip. This is Ruby.