On the banks of The Torrens South Australia

Fantasy fair cheeky little elfin –

willy wagtail runs pitter- patter down the turf

Seagulls take to the wind

Cool breeze ripples the flesh as it does the surf.

Birds race across the surface, making fanfare of foam in the shining sun

Seagulls scream while other birds scheme

Echoes of aeons rustle and rind

Blares and rattles disturb the mind.

Bellows reverberate in background

Willy wagtail ” chichis” while others cry down.

Seagulls screech and scull 

Ducks ducat and lull

On water they shadow it’s shallows – slap themselves

and preen with pride.

The flock unfolds and pierces the sky,

falling back scatter and fall 

Grey silver sheen reflects the green

of trees and their brown trunks.

The cool-cold breeze chases the chestnut and golden- green leaves.

Furled ochre-gold sheaves carpet the banks.

Mates seam and tear the surface tension.

Sunlight filters and spills through spaces in-between

sighs and heaves without retention.

A ridge of softly textured cumulus cloud curtains and covers.

A graceful gull stealthily, and delicate denotes his field for flight and hovers.

Weeping women shed their sorrows – while stout soldiers stand for all tomorrows.

Rafts of ripples float downstream – while icy cold fingers tickle and seam.

Whistle and laugh – work and be spoil but

Nature will  remain forever  true amongst horrors

 

 

 

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