Doggerel Dave

Three Palms

The sale will go ahead just four doors down;

A doubtful fate for the cottage it seems,

I bet the final bidder goes to town -

Still maybe they’ve found the home of their dreams:

Plenty of character though not vintage

Including rich green garden, neat courtyard;

But here’s Sydney, full of legal pillage -

‘Improvement’ is likely without regard.                   

Trees through my window hail me at breakfasts

All back grounded with ever changing sky;

Palms elegant, stately, tall as mainmasts

Set fair my journey into the day’s eye.

Of course those three palms were felled one morning:

Dissolved - the view I’d known for fifteen years.

This lessened life’s texture at day’s dawning

And my loss joined the surfeit of world cares.

Now I have nothing left but remembrance

As the palms aren’t there for the winds to play;

In the end there’s no choice but acceptance.

Well at least they’ve allowed the sky to stay.