Palm Tree

The majestic Arenga palm oscillates from side to side 

It dances on its own in the translucent sunlight

Its fanned leaves, flabby though form brush against each other

Like a mother’s cheek to its child.

Its boisterous rustle drains the reticent wind 

And the sound walks the path the tree stands by 

The palm tree stands, imposing and alone. 

It will never stoop to the identical bottlebrushes diffused across the field

Shying behind the eucalyptus trees 

And the banksias, whom it snickers at her boar-brush spikes 

The hopeful wattle likes the spotlight 

Although the palm tree’s jutting leaves can hack at her pollen

The palm tree’s supple leaves a mesmerising emerald 

Its rocking a divine waltz - A leisurely parade in the wind

When I stop and smell the flowers, 

I sniff low and tare aloft 

As I watch the prolific beauty,

My thoughts fly to our other hidden jewels drowned in multitude