Lake Macquarie History

Lakescape - a poem by Roland Robinson

I call Monet, who painted the waterlilies, to mind,
imagining how he would have made immortal all this
foreshore's profusion of white flowers clover and yellow
flowers before the long eyelashes of the lake this Spring.

Bees murmur-murmur-drone as they grapple the blooms.
Vivid grass-parrots thread the flowers. Larrikin galahs
plunge down out of the sky. All day the parent plovers'
piercing ratchet cries warn across the clover to where
their last surviving fledgling learns fiercely to forage
for itself, freeze in camouflage, race away for cover.
Left with its plastic yellow bucket, a child's
tethered-out, piebald pony stands forelock deep in flowers.

photo: yacht on lake macquarie