Tropical frangipani

I am used to seeing dome shaped frangipani trees, in Sydney, with plump looking branches and a mass of long, sword shaped, leaves. This example in Port Douglas, Far North Queensland has produced gorgeous blooms, with few leaves and a totured looking trunk and branches. 

Floating Frangipani

I walk beneath the deep green dome shaped tree,
I enjoy the sinus tickling fragrance,
Spiralling yellow white blooms lie scattered.
I bend down to pick up fallen flowers,
Sensuous silky petals feel so fragile.
I float them in a bowl of cool water,
Sustain them for a little while longer.

More precious than diamonds

Delicious drops of dew glisten in the
Cool light of dawn, slowly, slowly, dripping
From leaf from bud from twig. Clouds speed above,
Drizzle foreshadows a downpour, to drench
Landscape wide. Streams and brooks rush, swell, rise, run
Into rivers, flooding deltas, breaking
Free, flowing out to sea to oceans deep.
Dive into life giving blue, cleanse body
And spirit, swim west to sway with undines fair.
Grasp the chalice of aitch two oh. Deeply
Drink to link with Druids of old and new.
Oft’ used for scrying by many a seer
to reflect and look from seen to unseen.
More precious than diamonds, worth guarding well!

(c) Robert Jones 2013, All Rights Reserved

Spring, through the window

Spring, through the window

Spring, through the window

One of my favourite spots to sit and contemplate the World is at the kitchen table looking South. The view is by no means unencumbered. The lower half of the sash window is at the perfect level to gaze over the boundary fence toward a federation house. While I find the style of house aesthetically pleasing, it is typical for the suburb. In the warmer weather the occupants enjoy a smoke on the front porch. The height of the weathered timber, boundary fence has its benefits; I can’t see passersby or vehicles using the relatively quiet street.

A clue to the time of the year takes the form of the bloated trunk and branches of a frangipani tree standing within the boundary of the house across the road. For a couple of months it had stood bare, a skeleton of its potential glory. The Spring Equinox was on the 23rd September, since then the tree’s small, shiny, elongated buds have been replaced by a scattering of vibrant, olive green, surfboard shaped leaves.

By looking up slightly I can see the sky above the house. An electricity carrying cable sheathed in a yellow and black, diagonal striped cover is the only obstruction to a clear view of the sky. It reminds me that although Australia is considered a developed country, underground power cables are mostly a thing of tomorrow.

Where do you like to sit? What can you see?