The seasons change but they are seen
Against a sky of sapphire blue
Their silver bark forever new.
Leaves fall aplenty - brittle, dry
And new growth burgeons on the sly
Their branches whisper in the wind
Clothed in green, tall and long-limbed.
I crunch leaf litter – crackling sound
A light breeze pushes it around
No paths are swept and insects find
In billowing swathes a haven kind.
It’s surreal what at year’s end occurs
These noble trees, like Christmas firs
Are with red ribbons neatly wound;
Australia’s sentinels astound!
(c) Poet in the woods 2013
No comments:
Post a Comment