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Bushwalker
My garden, my garden, my beautiful garden
kaleidoscopic is feathers and flowers
I sit on a seat, a fine trees departing
and listen to your orchestral hours.
Only a wand, magic waved could deliver
beauty stretching for so many miles
where fences retarding are courses of rivers
and fallen trees are the styles.
I know little harmony survives around me
yet scales of justice, balance fine
who am I to say, what should or not be
I'm not part of this natural design.
Joyfully I walk through this virgin land
all so pristine, no sign of a mask
where the arbor, aviary, aquarium stand…
and not a penny is asked.
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