antique girl

the fragments of crockery stars scattered on the beach
we discovered them by day the tide put them within reach
these plates shared by generations, passed from father to son
mother to daughter, grandfather, 'mother, weathering under the sun
there are stories written without words on a pier long since fallen away
where eucalypts and mangroves guard, and honour the length of the bay
these bowls once tasted of apples in a house a few shells from the sand
where you walked with grandest children, enthralled by the works of your hands
our mouths enraptured by cinnamon, the spirit of our exploration you fed
you nurtured us over the years, with ‘fairyland’, and with fairy-bread
your nature of wandering landscapes, abandoned houses to history kind
these remnants of precious china are the stars that glow in my mind
your words peel the truth of apples in the quiet spaces of the world
you're a woman of centuries, welcoming trees, you are an antique girl