LADY IN RED
Posted: Wed Mar 06, 2013 9:26 am
we've had more than our fair share of rain here over the last few weeks and as a result everything is lush and green and growing like billy-oh. There's been a lot of wind swirling around due to the remnants of the cyclone and I was watching my big Poinciana tree expecting limbs to come crashing down any minute as they do. With the weight of her foliage and the rain on her leaves, the fronds were almost touching the ground and the wind was lifting the branches like a mexican wave at the footy. It was the inspiration behind this.
LADY IN RED
Maureen Clifford © 03/13
She lifts her skirts and flounces them for all the world to see
and does she care? No not a jot, for she is but a tree
a Poinciana, aging Queen, with three score years and ten
and likely more if truth be told for she was planted when
the house was built or thereabouts and that was long ago
and over years she’s seen her share, and seen floods come and go.
At my place this lady resides, I love her lime green lace
all tarted up with brightest red she shows a happy face
at times she weeps and in despair she rents her garments green
in tantrum throws them on the ground, though none can hear her scream.
And then she stands denuded, as if wondering what to wear,
totally lacking modesty, she flaunts her limbs so bare
with then no flouncing petticoats of green out on display
she looks a drab, stick thin limbs pointing skyward, every way.
But then her new spring wardrobe she brings out. Her array
of palest green pistachio and apricot hold sway,
her gown is somewhat sheer and short showing limbs underneath
but soon festooned in velvet rich more layers do her sheath.
Her skirts have become longer till they sweep and touch the ground
again she’s found her elegance and in style she is gowned.
Both sun and rain pay homage to her beauty and her grace
the rain bestowing diamonds to sparkle on her face.
The birds come, singing arias to while away her days
and Superb Blue Wrens dart and dance in visual display.
The Lorikeets leave coloured feathers their thanks to express
in colours shaded, green, orange, and blue to match her dress,
that cheeky wind he lifts her skirts and flounces them with glee.
But does she care? No not a jot, for she is but a tree.
LADY IN RED
Maureen Clifford © 03/13
She lifts her skirts and flounces them for all the world to see
and does she care? No not a jot, for she is but a tree
a Poinciana, aging Queen, with three score years and ten
and likely more if truth be told for she was planted when
the house was built or thereabouts and that was long ago
and over years she’s seen her share, and seen floods come and go.
At my place this lady resides, I love her lime green lace
all tarted up with brightest red she shows a happy face
at times she weeps and in despair she rents her garments green
in tantrum throws them on the ground, though none can hear her scream.
And then she stands denuded, as if wondering what to wear,
totally lacking modesty, she flaunts her limbs so bare
with then no flouncing petticoats of green out on display
she looks a drab, stick thin limbs pointing skyward, every way.
But then her new spring wardrobe she brings out. Her array
of palest green pistachio and apricot hold sway,
her gown is somewhat sheer and short showing limbs underneath
but soon festooned in velvet rich more layers do her sheath.
Her skirts have become longer till they sweep and touch the ground
again she’s found her elegance and in style she is gowned.
Both sun and rain pay homage to her beauty and her grace
the rain bestowing diamonds to sparkle on her face.
The birds come, singing arias to while away her days
and Superb Blue Wrens dart and dance in visual display.
The Lorikeets leave coloured feathers their thanks to express
in colours shaded, green, orange, and blue to match her dress,
that cheeky wind he lifts her skirts and flounces them with glee.
But does she care? No not a jot, for she is but a tree.
and it's still raining.