Schizostylis the Kaffiar Lily Poem by john (called jack) wren

My green and glossy leaves adorn
scarlet flowers on an Autumn morn
while above the sky looks bleak
and meadow grass is now antique.

The day's light is short but sweet
some perennials are short and neat
bereft of flower or leaf to wear
lacking in colour, lacking in flare.

But I stand in line with pride
head up, chest out, so dignified
scorn not my name in foreign tongue
my land of birth is so far flung.

Where I and Autumn hands do hold
we are as one the centrefold
and shine in glorious sunset hue
to bid our earthly friends adieu.