When The Frangipani Blooms
Posted: Fri Nov 20, 2015 7:54 am
When The Frangipani Blooms
The breeze is blowing softly with the coming of the dawn
as the suns rays filter through the morning gloom.
The butcher birds are singing from atop the swaying gums
and the
Frangipani’s finally in bloom.
The sweet smell of eucalyptus finds me on the gentle breeze
bringing with it memories of years gone by.
I watch the ibis streaming in a line across the flats
silhouetted dark against the morning sky.
This is the sweetest time of year in this place I call my home
Winters gone and Summers slowly is building steam.
The time of year when flowers bloom and fill the air with scents
that can take you anywhere you care to dream.
The sun peeks o’er the ocean and the surf just comes alive
with reflections sparkling on the building tide.
The golden sands caress me as they squeak beneath my feet
the heart strings pull as to this place I’m tied.
Gentle tranquil mornings herald humid sunlit days
nature now is turning on its finest show.
You can hear the wood ducks whistle as they head on out to feed
Black cockatoos feed in the branches low
They say we have two seasons either wet or hot and dry
but we know there’s so much more to it then gloom.
As natures wonderland unfolds and Summer shows it wares
and the
Frangipani’s finally in bloom.
Bob Pacey (c)
The breeze is blowing softly with the coming of the dawn
as the suns rays filter through the morning gloom.
The butcher birds are singing from atop the swaying gums
and the
Frangipani’s finally in bloom.
The sweet smell of eucalyptus finds me on the gentle breeze
bringing with it memories of years gone by.
I watch the ibis streaming in a line across the flats
silhouetted dark against the morning sky.
This is the sweetest time of year in this place I call my home
Winters gone and Summers slowly is building steam.
The time of year when flowers bloom and fill the air with scents
that can take you anywhere you care to dream.
The sun peeks o’er the ocean and the surf just comes alive
with reflections sparkling on the building tide.
The golden sands caress me as they squeak beneath my feet
the heart strings pull as to this place I’m tied.
Gentle tranquil mornings herald humid sunlit days
nature now is turning on its finest show.
You can hear the wood ducks whistle as they head on out to feed
Black cockatoos feed in the branches low
They say we have two seasons either wet or hot and dry
but we know there’s so much more to it then gloom.
As natures wonderland unfolds and Summer shows it wares
and the
Frangipani’s finally in bloom.
Bob Pacey (c)