The Wattle Tree

Oh the wattle tree, oh the wattle tree! Who can mark your true potentials For a love that pulls at your arms at the gate Where the warm wind’s gentle essentials

Weigh down the night till the morning strays, Where the light and the gladness grow; Your branches in tender arms stretch and sway Like the flames of a fire so low.

The softest sound of your roots when I hear The whisper of sunshine above, Just beside the path to a heart, my dear, Where the flowers will fall like a dove.

When the stars lie low on the wattle blooms And the world offers more than the price, I listen for hearts that can glide with the glooms, With the fireflies dancing in nice!

• David Campbell