© Copyright 2006, Eddie Lawler. All rights reserved.
poet & playwright
She’s wise alright, this lady.
Hard, however. As she has to be.
Toughened, weathered, and when trodden on
Springs back behind the boot
And says nothing; keeps her wisdom
Clam-like on this sea-bed now
Shoved high above road and racket,
Wall and wailing siren.
The pelting fists of rain
As acid as it comes, can batter,
Winds can buffet, frosts do bite
And summer sunshine burns – But still she’ll tough it out,
And suddenly, late indeed,
When others shrink for cover,
Shrivel and curl in fear of future
She’s blushing, deep, all over.
It can’t be guilt, and if it’s shame
Then only out of empathy
With folk who’ve come, and gone on by
Pretending. Such as me.
Some of us said “Beautiful”. Oh dear,
That’s far too dull to hear
Above the bee-buzz.
Hot flush of mother earth.
Written by and © Eddie Lawler 2002