Thoughts of my home at Easter

By the time Easter arrives the nights are cooler and so, in the mornings

Dew rests thickly on the ground tracing the spider webs through the grass and onto the fence line,

Upstairs Dad is making another cup of tea and listening to the radio,

The parrots arrive at the kitchen window… tap tap tap.

Dad rests a spoonful of honey on the verandah railing and leaves them to enjoy it,

Mum is out in the garden picking Rocket, Cilantro and Lettuce for lunch,

Butcher Birds and Kookaburras keep an eager eye on her action that may flush out a juicy insect,

The Hares have been munching on the garden greens poking through the mesh,

As I come down the stairs from the house I see them skipping off across the paddock

Every so often they pause before bounding away again.

Soon it will be time for a walk through the bush past the wild lemon tree and

Bush orchids nestled in the widowers where the eagles dry their wings,

Past the undergrowth where the Willy Wagtails dance and vines grow across the gullies

down to the edge of the river.

My thoughts are with my family and my home because I didn’t make it there for Easter…

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