Under the Frangipani tree
I have a secret place which none knows
Where I escape to when it’s all too hot and bothered…
A place where I can see through rain drops
To the grace and grandeur of pink-tipped petticoats with golden hearts
Where the air is intoxicatingly sweet with perfume from sun-kissed petals
Which mass in a flurry of artistic perfection…
…again, and again and again in an umbrella of beauty and elegance.
Life beneath my Frangipani tree…
Is summer’s seductive and sensual glory…
And all in all… too short-lived
But never short-loved.
(Watercolours of my photos via Waterlogue App .It’s wonderful!)
© 2014 Francesca Muir