Thursday, July 16, 2009

The Wattle Blossom Waltz

When your garden is filled
With those Banksia Men,
Don't succumb to their plot,
Don't dare set down your pen.

Yes, the wattle puffs scatter
In your garden's harsh winds,
But in best backyard races
The patient one wins.

So it is there I shall wait for you,
Darling wordfriend,
In that cold winter garden
'til your dark season ends.

P.S. With thanks to the beautiful wattle trees and May Gibbs.


Duyvken said...

You are a dear friend, Eleanor.
We love banksia men at our house!

Suse said...

There are millions of wattles out here where I live and each late winter (like, right now) it feels like the world is glowing.

(I miss you)

Mary said...

Delicious poem.

The wattle is out here too - although we are waiting for Gary to bloom fully.