The big dry sycamore leaves
Rattle gently in the breeze
Takes me away to a mountain spring
Washing over the stones before the winter’s freezing.
Cold still, moving still.
Her Mace seed-pod ready
To pelt someone’s back or really
Break up down your sister’s shirt
The itch bomb makes you take a Shower.
Mighty and tall the Sycamore
With broad leaves and a broad stance
An Autumn beauty who loves the dance.
Categories
Old sycamore
