Euphoria’s best fill my senses,
As what is, seems all lost.
Everywhere, everything seems to be closing in.
Coming further and further inside.
Tuppity uppity tum.
Uppity tippity tip.
The rhythm that only my heart seems to beat,
In blissful or shall I say un-blissful symphony,
With the steady white flippity flip falls.
My heart will take no more of this rhythm.
For how many more
Shall it breathe for?
This frost descends in want
For the warmth of the elephant grass’ colour and feel.
Those green and yellow days seem far, far away from this place.