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Rookie - 11 Points (09/1965 / Australia)

The Cherry Blossom

In the quietness of the dawn,
There is silence across the lawn,

The lonely Cherry Blossom tree,
Lets the last of the flowers free,

Like a simple tear is wept,
The memory of blossoms are swept,

A carpet of pink petals adorn the ground, like pink snow,
Cover the patch where the strawberries are found to grow,

The children saunter out into the dawning day,
Visions of endless summer holidays of play,

The numbness of peace is shattered by laughter,
The plump sweetness of the fruit they're after,

Through the innocent layer of soft pink they plough,
Reaping all the juicy red fruit the plants will allow,

Blood red sticky juice dribbles down the chin,
And the fun of the day can begin,

Without a thought the fruit is consumed,
Not a thought for the air perfumed,

The innocence of a child's desires,
Are as tall as the trees highest spires,

Gone in a minute is the humble offering,
Gone, until the beginning of a new spring.

The Cherry Blossom whispers quietly in the wind,
A single child noticed, and grinned,

In the quietest voice; 'Thank you' she says,
'Ill be back for more next year' she preys,

All this time the tree is swaying,
Like its own way of saying,

'I will be here, shed not a tear, for you I will fear, will grow and forget to hear,
The whispers of the Cherry Blossom'

Submitted: Wednesday, August 08, 2012
Edited: Wednesday, August 08, 2012

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