Merimbula. Australia. Brenda Bryant
SCENIC SUNDAY
PREVAILING WIND
Gently blow the breezes,
All sun-warmed from the sea,
Scarcely fluttering a leaf,
In their trajectory.
But breezes blowing day by day
By day by day by day,
Have a way of nudging trees
To grow a certain way.
Breezes may be gentle,
And wood quite hard and strong
But breezes sigh 'I know I'm right
And I know you are wrong.'
So is the voice of reason
Which learns how to persuade.
Gently, gently wins the day,
So who needs a tirade?
*
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WAITING
Waiting for the coffee; waiting for the cakes.
Waiting for the concert soon to start.
It takes place at the Opera House several times a year,
And it's partly gourmandising, partly art.
It's known as 'Tea and Symphony', a title I enjoy,
And the journey on the train is always fun.
Here we are just waiting, in the shadows, on the steps,
Lapping up the gentle Autumn sun.
*
