The Golden Seed Grove Of Lemuria

Lisbon Lemon by Vivienne Bibby

Last night she dreamed about the Lisbon lemon
beside black beeches on a lonely ridge.
A Meyer could not survive the winds,
that blew there almost every day.


She sliced a shelf below a high point on the hill
And faced the sapling forward to the sun.
When children came to slide there one by one.
Wood pigeons, Kereru, and Tui came as well.

While raspberries and strawberries thrived
it guarded both potatoes and the totara tree.
Observing far too many rare and secret things
for such a homely kitchen garden tree.

In time there was fragrance from the flowers,
and lumpy fruit hidden deep within the spines.
Often she would gash her hand or forearm;
Scars, her only keepsakes of that stormy time

The Lisbon prospered after she had gone
and gave its produce to another family.
Turned soil and sun and rain to dimpled skin
Continued a generosity that once she grew.

Viv Bibby 2004

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The Golden Seed Grove belongs to all those Lemurians who have planted here.