Atmospheric
The temperature is rising.
The atmosphere is rising,
There’s something in the air,
Bound on wings, her heart sings,
Without a worry, or a care.
We embrace and live the memories,
A tear is shed, or two,
Birds fly by, up in the sky,
Too whit, Too whit, Too woo.
We live and die, yearn, and sigh
And miss the ones we love,
Special friends, never end,
We fit like fingers, in a glove.
Wilga will live, inside my heart,
A woman, of panache and style,
The quintessential lady,
With an enigmatic smile.
Nature holds a special place,
In Wilga’s wonder world,
And birds are heard, and always stirred,
As each day unfurled.
From a call in the morning,
The great chorus of the song,
Sitting on the verandah rail,
Voiced in throngs, her whole life long.
The nuances of nature,
Perceptions of perfection,
The South Coast in her glory,
Seized Wilga’s attention.
Then I looked into the sky,
And beckoned her to come,
Safe and surely guided,
Once away, now, coming home.
©
David Rudder 30th August 2016
“ A tribute I wrote to Wilga Seaton, a fellow writer, and a wonderful lady”
Thank you for reading this piece and my poetry.
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