Fresh early morning breeze.
The birds' song in the trees.
Dusty, yet suddenly things come to life,
and makes you stop and look amidst the strife.
Bougainvillea cascade down walls
and all too soon the first jacarandas fall.
Mulberries ripen and stain faces and hands
and high up in the tree the turaco stands.
The cool turns to heat and wind stirs the dust
and all around the deep earth is a shade of rust.
New beginnings and the start of summer's here.
It is this time of year that my heart holds dear.
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