“A Whittlesea Walk”

English poplars

grace the waterways,

tall in regal symmetrical splendour,

leaves fluttering shyly

in faded gold.

The native banksias

prefer a free-form dance

in confident profusion,

proudly owning the soil.

Russet velvet reeds

explode now

into small cream clouds,

like fluffy fledglings clinging to their stalks.

Frogs sing

from their hidden chambers

along the wetlands,

passing on some soggy amphibious secret

that is never known.

Grumbling crowds of cockatoos

eat the seed no doubt left

for prettier parrots and dainty finches,

their yellow crests curling upwards

in oblivious defiance.

Bronze-topped swamp grass

blurs into the softer hue

of an impressionist’s pallet

as I slowly walk away.

Almost leafless trunks

still haunt the top of the distant hills,

totems to fiery summers past,

the gentle hand of a wintering sun

no longer a threat…..


1 Comment

Filed under poetry

One response to ““A Whittlesea Walk”

  1. Beautiful, colorful…and tranquil. Thank you for this lovely walk with you amidst your land. xo

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