The following poem was written after a visit to the fruit and vegetable markets which is around Homebush area. It was early morning as we wanted to be there before the crowds to find red roses for a wedding. We bought roses from quite a few stalls and here I express a moment of one encounter of this early morning. A slow motion, stand still moment, in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the markets.
she is flower enough
loose hair caresses her shoulders
its pink streaks fall over her face
a shy flick
reveals a golden gypsy earring
and eyes that spark new bloom
the freshness of dawn
I reach out my hand
to touch the black velvet
in the folds of her red roses
and look up into her smile
catch her gaze
like pushing pause on a remote
the noise and haste of the flower markets
its busy orbit of colour and perfume
acrobatic swing of boxes and buckets
of tulips carnations and lilies
the pirouette of forklifts
the bustle
the call of bargains and buys
become still and mute
life rushes back
a trance broken with my whisper
three bunches of red roses please