a butterball sun,
sits low in the
morning sky.
as the weekend peloton, whizzes on by and down
the hill.
in the council's headland park precinct,
the illegal nomads,
are being rousted
and evicted from, their overnight, purlioned and picturesque views.
the early fishermen,
in their dinghies,
dot the teal sea and
the sail boats,
are racing out further,
white sails, against blue sky.
in our pond,
the koi leap in a frenzy,
trying to catch,
the itty, bitty, midgey bugs.
and the old blue tongue,
comes out to settle on his
rough log .
the bees work tirelessly,
from flower to flower.
as the blue wrens,
gossip and preen,
in their lilac bower
the dragon flies dart
about in distraction.
while over at
the milkwood patch,
you can see the caterpillars,
are busy decimating,
leaf after leaf.
i sit on the porch,
coffee in hand.
newspaper forgotten
on the side table.
slowly taking this beauty all in.
as the aroma of eggs, bacon and pancakes, drift from within.
