Taking Root

I’d seen Lianne at her cottage door

When I’d walked the old bush track,

The cottage had been abandoned, but

She was gradually bringing it back,

She painted it and she patched it

There was nothing she couldn’t do,

I even saw her up on the roof

Repairing a faulty flue.

 

I simply waved at the girl at first

And she’d smile, and wave on back,

She must have been used to seeing me

On that little-used outback track,

I wondered why she would settle there

In a cottage, out on her own,

I never saw anyone else to share

The place that she called her home.

 

I stopped, of course, and I spoke to her

Once I’d passed a dozen times,

She said that she loved the fresh, clean air,

That she’d travelled from colder climes,

The sun was warm in the early spring

But I mentioned about the drought,

‘The summer heat is intense out here

With nothing to keep it out.’

 

What trees there were had died long since

For the lack of a steady rain,

They stood, grey, gaunt and twisted, like

Arthritic men, in pain,

She said she was going to grub them out

And plant fresh trees when she could,

Something with lots of leaves for shade

And water them, well and good.

 

I mentioned a couple of species that

Would grow at a furious pace,

Like the Australian willow, it

Was known for its speed, and grace,

She’d put some in when I passed again

And we talked of family trees,

She said that her Gran had left the place

To her, to do as she pleased.

 

‘My people, back in the early days

Were some of the pioneers,

They built this cottage and tilled the soil

And they persevered for years.

But Gran took off for the city once

Her husband took ill, and died,

He’s buried out in the back out there,

With his father, by his side.’

 

She showed me the graves of her forefathers,

The stones were weathered and worn,

She’d tried to tidy them up a bit

Erected a limestone cairn,

‘They came and slaved and suffered here

And died, and followed suit,

That’s why I came to save the place,

I felt like taking root.’

 

I caught a glimpse of her eyes at that

And saw a glimmer of tears,

She was the last of the line of them,

These family pioneers,

She wasn’t a striking beauty but

Had passion, guts and grace,

And that’s when I fell in love with her

And I told her, to her face.

 

She smiled and patted my hand: ‘You’re sweet,

But you don’t know me at all,

Maybe you’ll get to know me, if

You keep on coming to call.’

So I did, on into the summer then,

And followed through to the fall,

But then I was sent away for months

To a farm where I couldn’t call.

 

She had no phone, she had no mail

No electricity,

She spent her nights on a garden seat

With a lantern on a tree,

The summer had seen a blistering heat

But the fall brought on the rain,

It was well into winter by the time

I was able to call again.

 

I found her out in the garden, where

She stood in a sort of trance,

I tried to engage her attention, but

She barely spared me a glance,

Her skin was coloured a shade of grey

And her legs were rough and stark,

Her feet had sunk in the mulch out there

And her ankles looked like bark.

 

I pulled at her hands but she simply leaned,

She swayed like a sapling bent,

Out from the tips of her fingers grew

Some strange disfigurement,

Her hair was tangled with creepers

That were snaking along her back,

I thought I could wake her with a kiss

But I seemed to have lost the knack.

 

I left her there in the garden, but

I see her from time to time,

The seasons come and the seasons go

But Lianne continues to climb,

Her clothes fell off, they were rotted through

Now she needs no type of suit,

Lianne’s as busy as ever,

As she said, she’s taking root.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Valentine]

This is a little different from your usual..I liked the picture as it explained exactly what she had turned into..as she took root..This was a sad tale..your mind must work overtime to keep coming up with these gems..love and God bless you and Lyn..Kathie

[David Scott]

I like that you can explore some of life's deeper truths with an engaging story. Deep symbolism. Can go deep with this one if you had the inclination.
Would read it to a high school class for sure. Could learn for days.

[minisla]

Stuck for words on this poem. Where does your inspiration come from? Thinking of retiring from writing after this one. In awe.....

[eatmills]

David, it's funny that I should read this at a time when I am thinking what makes me, me? Is it the past or the dreams of the future. What a powerfull story, thanks.

[Emerald Seas]

Lovely, sad, and with whimsy... I did thoroughly enjoy this tale.

[Baby Ricochet]

Reminds me of a Greek tale where Apollo is chasing after a girl and she turns into reeds,

[Marie]

Daphne I believe her name was...

[Baby Ricochet]

That's the one

[Tate Morgan]

This is a great meandering of the mind. A twist on the pioneer legend for sure.It has all the hallmarks of the Paget demeanor though.I especially like the analogy of the arthritic trees .

[Enid Blake]

I liked it - truly gothic! Ha ha, I really liked lines 3 and 4 in the fourth stanza - brilliant!

[MOON]

Poignant write taking root forever .

[emmy bon]

what a love of a home, nice tittle and the picture matched so well with the story
you never gonna stop writing right? well keep on and i keep enjoying reading it. once again well done sir