Your golden presence announced far out on the dunes,In a silent language only a seeker with a hunch,
Would perhaps know the mysteries of that land,
Some would search deeper,
But you shone like a beacon,
Summoning all who were willing to be your saviour,
One would climb the grassy soft dunes,
Those pale yellow petals began to capture more brilliance,
And direct me to your stress,
What a beautiful vision finally revealed,
Those wonderful hands would save,
And coerce out this trapped sunflower from the hard soil,
Cradling it into a piece of canvas,
And knowing, "there is a new home for you now",
That team of bullies and corrupt politicians,
Selfishly taking and never giving back,
Pathing over more of Sea Island for another runway,
Their trampling and destruction on the wildflower meadows and dunes,
Would leave nothing even for the birds and insects,
Golden Flower became another well-wisher,
Displaying throughout this glorious summer in my garden now,
Sometimes one could imagine,
Its friends of the garden world,
All those magnificent flowery heads nodding in greetings,
Leaves of all shapes leaf shaking, as people would with their hands,
A mischievous gust of wind would set in motion; a group hug, or bow or curtsey,
Hydrangeas and sweet peas would talk in an impish play,
The roses and peonies in their beds fading, but still attractive,
Golden flower still stood proud and grateful,
Following the sun throughout the day,
And always turning,
To thank me for my kind gesture.
