Somewhere in wattle's gold
There is a secret shining…
A new dreaming…
Longing for the treasure of memory…
Like Andaman Islands
Lush with creeping vines…
And the rhythms of colonial rumours…
Like Pandora’s box…
Even the darkest winters of mumblings and groanings
Cannot waylay
The birth of Hope…
Early morning…
A time when spectrum threads of sunrise
Weep longingly through leaves…
The mountain road is narrow…
Swinging ever downward in the pulse of tides…
Hesitant cross-tides…
Ever nearing
The blue sigh of ocean journeys…
But the road is ribboned with the smile of wattle’s gold…
Many shapes and hues of gold…
Like earth angels…
Silent guards of honour…
Marking the way of a new dreaming…
A secret shining…
The whispering hope of Spring…
Somewhere in wattle’s gold…
- AuraGem's blog
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woven
I like how your lines are woven, I really enjoyed reading it. raskin
Interweaving Threads
Thank you! I love weaving all the senses into my poetry if I can!
Smiles and Light
AuraGem