August’s morning chill can’t replay
The bitter freeze of July days.
Lukewarm sun shines pure and lingers
In the evening haze.
Cootamundra wattle blossoms
Beside the gums and banksia trees,
And Snugglepot and Cuddlepie
Frolic in the breeze.
Soon blue couch lawns of suburbs wake
The weekend’s din of Victa whirrs
And gardens start to beg for care
As the pollen stirs.
Spring slips into the year by stealth
And winter clouds withdraw and pall,
While steel blue skies beget summer’s
Victims of autumn’s fall.
Note: the picture is, of course, by the legendary May Gibbs.