Phantom Wattle

Small glowing suns,

Waving in the wind.

Shining as bright as the sun,

As they struggle to survive.

Fire is coming,

Run, hide the villagers say,

But Wattle is defenceless.

Still glowing, as it burns

Cold dark nights,

Villagers sleep and weeds creep.

Feral animals come out to feed.

Wattle is now in danger.

Wattles are protectors of other plants,

Transferring nitrogen into the soil.

Increasing more growth for other plants

Never does it stop, it’s incessantly loyal.

The years fly by,

More and more wattles die.

Let's help this bush,

Not become a true phantom.