Sunday, October 2, 2011




To those of you in milder climes
These flowers are not exotic,
And labelling them as something rare
Is really idiotic.
But where I live in New South Wales, 
Down beside the sea,
Pretty little Springtime flowers
We very rarely see.
We have our jacaranda
And our wattle's golden bright
And the curtains of wisteria 
Are a truly lovely sight.
But cowslips, bluebells and the like
Are something rich and rare
And so we travel to the Highlands*
To see them growing there.
* The Highlands of New South Wales!


Memory is not a picture; it's a series of disconnected blots.
Only sometimes do we wander in a field of forget-me-nots.
We remember this one and that one, on one day or the next.
We remember in isolation, not as smoothly-flowing text.
Most of all we remember emotion; we look at a photograph,
And we remember sadness, though the image may show a laugh.
And, as the years go past us, we remember self-delusion;
We recall how our own gaiety was sometimes an illusion.
A love-affair indulged in, we recall with some distaste;
We thought it was 'the real thing' then, now 'the true thing' must be faced;
We 'fell in love' merely because a new man had been found.
Looking back, he was nothing much; just the only man around.
Friends, relations, colleagues have grown dust upon the shelf.
Whom do I really remember?


Maria said...

Beautiful picture! To me, it is exotic. In Austria, very small ones grow in woods, but mainly they grow indoors.

Tatjana Parkacheva said...

Beautiful flowers.

Regards and best wishes

SandyCarlson said...

What you have done here is very beautiful and full of a fun spirit. Thank you.

Madeleine Begun Kane said...

Wonderful verse and images to match.

And thanks for yet another fun contribution to my weekly Limerick-Offs!

DeniseinVA said...

Lovely post to read. Enjoyed your poetry very much and those flowers are great.