Botanica
written by: Peter Lloyd
A warm wind blows the autumn leaves,
Swirling around us.
I look around and see,
A sky of tumbled yellow.
My daughter strides along beside me.
Annoyed. Impatient.
My little tricks to get her walking
Don’t impress.
The Botanical Gardens seem empty.
The trees and shrubs are feathering,
Blasted by gusts of wind.
In the Japanese garden,
We lean on the red bridge,
Out of the wind.
Dreaming of different things.
On the river, a ship’s horn blows.
The nearby traffic slows, then stops.
In the Hobart Gardens are wonders—
Trees and plants growing,
Breathing their life force out,
So infinitely that we hardly notice
How perfect they are.
Started writing poetry when I was fifteen and did so for few years. Have just started writing again recently.....Born in Ipswich, QLD...1952 and moved around a bit as my farther was in the RAAF.. We settled in Albury, NSW when he became a teacher. Left home when I was fifteen and moved to Sydney. My first rental was a bed-sit in Kings Cross.. worked as Display Artist in Grace Bros, Broadway. Most of my new friends there were aspiring actors and I helped out backstage...They were exciting times. 1969 in the Cross.. Hair was on ...it was a big R and R destination for many US servicemen wanting time out of “Asia"...... I had been involved with the Anti Vietnam War movement for a couple of years and the thought of a lucky draw Conscription wasn’t appealing...roughly 50% of all Australian males age 20 were called up and half of those did a tour of duty in Vietnam......So I went to Kathmandu instead of Khao San....had my nineteenth birthday there....travelled for the eight years before arriving in Cygnet, Tasmania with my partner and two young boys...writing needs discipline.
