The glistening frost drop on a sun flower seed,
Dew drops shimmering on the pink thorny weed
Blackened Pine-trees soaring, from fires roaring
Glimpse of bright green shoots now hold the glory
Black cockatoos exploring
Frogs and crickets chorusing
Trickling creeks bubbling
Stars above sparkling
Through crisp air silently
A bird twitter
Many chickens quiver to a new morning
A cracked egg shell, baby chicks have arrived
cheeping their little lungs of praise at sunrise
Ducks flapping in Puddles
Goat and ponies huddle
magpies soar high
Kookaburras laugh loudly near by
The little things
The simple things
Are all I need to make my eyes twinkle
Created by Marg Smith
31-07-2020
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The Harvest
Koyi wobbled to her shabby wood and straw kaz, holding her machete and an old burlap bag with some yams. Someone had laid another basket in front of the patched up door—rose apples today. They were a bright reddish pink, looking waxy and crisp, just the way she liked them. The culprit knew her very well. Those would be crunchy, juicy and sweet—she could tell—but she gathered all the will she could muster and pushed the basket aside to enter her home. She had already said no repeatedly and would not be taking bribes.
By Lily Séjor2 days ago in Fiction
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