Greens and gold of lattice work cascading down the tree, This epiphyte, so infinitely, delicately free. A lattice work of green finesse, a miniature Cezanne With exquisiteness of spiky bloom embellishing it’s charm. Cascading down the grizzled trunk of gnarled and twisted hand The hosting ancient Kamahi looms loftily, so grand. Looms aloft with leafy bough so softened by the show Of ruffled, pinkish bottle brush amassing high and low. Hordes of buzzing, bumble bees so clumsy in their way, Tumbling from flower to flower collecting nectar’s day. With afternoon the waning sun lies hot on sultry air And little girls in pretty frocks skip by with not a care. Summer grasses long and dry stand statuesque and straight With sweet laburnum’s perfumed heads a nodding by the gate. Young heifers graze in clover in the dell down by the brook And the fantail dances daintily seeking insects in the nook There’s a special, quiet majesty pervading here, so fair With the thistledown afloat, so still with golden motes in air. Fills my soul with gentle feeling and a rolling tear, unplanned, For this blend of quiet ambivalence through my beauteous rural land.
Marshalg “Foxglove” Taranaki. NEW ZEALAND. 19 January 2014