Smells of the bush hover, silent in the air,
Earthy, sweet aromas waft, tickling my nostrils,
The dry leafy carpet crunches and crackles underfoot,
Hands brush against smooth silver bark, caressing,
Shimmering above, a silver canopy hangs,
Reflecting a softly dappled mulch carpet,
Breathing in nature, tastebuds tantalised,
Gumtree gems are collected to admire later.
Memories of a childhood long past,
And almost forgotten.
© Dawn Whitehand 2012