Herbal tea

Dropping around to Laura’s
For a quick cup of tea.
Hello friend
This is me
These are my fronds.
Dandelion tea
And strange salty plums.
But what of the fronds,
Would they like some food?
A natural offer
Of horticultural hospitality.
Embracing our oddness
Becoming our oddkin.

Let’s sit in the sun
I’d enjoy the warmth too.
Molly the dogfriend
Sniffs the soil scents,
I hover protectively,
Which proves to be unnecessary
With this gentle curious being.

Our conversation twines around
Job interviews and oat milk,
Procreation, germination,
Books, attention spans and dance.
As our skins and our leaves
And our skinny leaves and our leafy skins
Soak up the warm autumn sun.

photo 3

Molly and the fronds

photo 2

Also, a bushwalk!


4 thoughts on “Herbal tea

  1. I like the photo of the plants overlooking the Blue mountains. It’s a great juxtaposition of young/new growth and old/ancient landscape. Your fond fronds are communing with their relatives and ancestors! The plants are much like how I feel when i visit the Blue Mountains, I feel so young, humbled by the ancient landscape

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks Katrina, I like that way of putting it- the young and the old meeting. The parallels between me in the landscape and the fronds- so small, so new! I was certainly thinking about such things on our walk.


  2. Oh the photo of Molly and the fronds is a delight! Made me think of my human projections but am wondering about the scents and scenting between these 2 species? Does the plant sense danger and let off chemicals as warning? Do they breathe together like Maoris taking in the breath of the other? And I am thinking of my 3 yr old grandson Fletch as he always looks and says about the photo of my mum on the fridge: ” so that is your mum Boo? And she is dead Boo? And she is broken Boo? And she can’t be fixed Boo? After all those ‘yes’ replies, he then says, “I will fix her Boo”.


    • Wow, that is beautiful, Carol. Sound like a very caring young soul. I often think about breathing with the fronds, I have a half written poem somewhere about this- ‘I like to think that you have split some of the O2s from my Cs and sent them back to my greedy lungs.’


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