FOR AIDAN, August 1999

The breeze soughs softly, sweetly
Through the leafy green
Of bamboo reaching to the
Lofty, luminous sky and
Rustling restlessly in its
Swaying, yet stilly frissons.
What stories do those branches
Hear from birds of brilliant
Hue, or black and white,
Swooping on unsuspecting
Passers by, protecting
Unknown nestlings in a hidden nest.
Here hide the children, silent,
Squealing, laughing; knowing
They are seen. This is their jungle,
Hand holding confident, this
Their world to find delight in.
Crocodiles abound and tigers,
Stealthy, striped, tread
Lightly on the fallen leaves.
This is a world where mind floats free
Until it’s time to ask for tea.

JEB

For more information on these poems, contact edmund@balnaves.org