Suffice to say th’ lilac carpet laid by Jacaranda
trees transports you into a new purview - altho’
it’s not one that you’d wax on too loquaciously,
there’re similar scenes almost everywhere tree-
lined avenues deposit blooms of such sanctity;
we’ll keep our belief quietly secured to the way
we treasure its wooing us subtlety into arms of
a paramountcy ageing th’ grace of being alive
And we’ll all survive better in being able to see
what makes it th’ scene we’d grieve for - were
they to be replaced by a Metallica of urbanity -
but it ain’t at all likely in th’ day and age where
trees’ve greater status than a Trumped clue of
what matters to the egotistic views of perjury
© 6 December 2017, I. D. Carswell
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