My Australian Torch Lily
From Africa, the Torch Lily came to me, without flower
In seasons, less than winter, green long fronds, wave
In cold winter, wary, small green nobbled stalks upright, bow:
To all, in my native Australian garden, proud, saved.
Before its time of grandeur, my Lily, not yet in shine
Teases me to guess how high its stalks will rise
Day by day, I look for flowers, poking heads in line
The day of grandeur slowly comes, a Red Hot Poker surprise.
A beauty in yellow, below in flower, creeps up cone red hot red
The Yellow Honey Eater grabs in flight, a stalk, drinking nectar
Soon, all in turn, nectar eaters come to drink in the red heads
In time, not long, grandeur fades, back to stalks, seeds, no star.