September 1st is Wattle Day in Australia. The date marks the first day of Spring, and the Wattle is to an Australian what the first snowdrop is to someone in England. Its several varieties grow wild, and school-children are encouraged to take Wattle to school on the first day of Spring, to decorate their classrooms. Hence this sentimental, old-fashioned offering.
WATTLE DAY
The Winter has a paintbrush
That's filled with faded paint.
The greys and greens are languid
And all is pale and faint.
And suddenly a trumpet sounds!
A wild and brilliant sound!
As the Wattle throws its yellowness around.
The Wattle heralds Springtime
When skies are washed and clear,
As, with a jaunty brightness,
It tells us Summer's near.
The wild birds start to clamour
With a bright and blessed sound,
As the Wattle throws its yellowness around.
The Wattle bursts with blossom
In every local park.
And, if the day is cloudy,
It lights a merry spark.
It's falling gift of puff-balls
Spreads across the waiting ground
As the Wattle throws its yellowness around.
The Wattle blooms in Springtime
When some other trees are bare.
It stands there like a Princess
With gleaming yellow hair.
We had lost the golden weather
But now, at last, it's found
As the Wattle throws its yellowness around.
A multitude of candles
Light a world that once was cold.
It blesses us
Blesses us with its Gold.
WATTLE DAY
The Winter has a paintbrush
That's filled with faded paint.
The greys and greens are languid
And all is pale and faint.
And suddenly a trumpet sounds!
A wild and brilliant sound!
As the Wattle throws its yellowness around.
The Wattle heralds Springtime
When skies are washed and clear,
As, with a jaunty brightness,
It tells us Summer's near.
The wild birds start to clamour
With a bright and blessed sound,
As the Wattle throws its yellowness around.
The Wattle bursts with blossom
In every local park.
And, if the day is cloudy,
It lights a merry spark.
It's falling gift of puff-balls
Spreads across the waiting ground
As the Wattle throws its yellowness around.
The Wattle blooms in Springtime
When some other trees are bare.
It stands there like a Princess
With gleaming yellow hair.
We had lost the golden weather
But now, at last, it's found
As the Wattle throws its yellowness around.
A multitude of candles
Light a world that once was cold.
It blesses us
Blesses us with its Gold.
6 comments:
Amazing isn't it...as our summer draws to a close (all 2 days of it) Autumn is whistling in through the cracks and crannies.....yet you are awaiting Spring! How awesome is that!
Great to hear about the Beggars Bridge inspiration!
See you on ABC Wed!
Dxx
For a moment you had me confused. Then I remembered that Downunder the seasons are different
HI
Thanks for stopping by my blog!
yes looking forward to crisper temps.. but today 90 and tomorrow 93!What? this is Sept in eastern US and supposed to be fall and leaves turning brown.
Will be reading your archives! Nice to meet you
Mim
You must have swallowed the Dictionary ;-) !
Do they have Gargoyles in Australia? I thought they were strictly for the old world.
We have everything here! Most of it copied from somewhere else!!!! But my Gargoyle is an imaginary one.
The tempo of the poem heading
towards the warmth of the spring is amazing..!!
I am reminded of Wordsworth's poem... starting with...
I wandered lonely as a cloud...
.... and continues to..
Ten thousand saw I at a glance
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
and finishes warmly with ...
And then my heart with pleasure fills
And dances with the daffodils..!!!
If not already, :)))) someday you're going to be hailed as one
of the finest poet this world has seen..!!!!
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