Wild, ancient Syce,
pushing toes deep into the sand,
you stretch from Terra
to touch Astrum.
You hide your flowers
within a shell
where only copper wasps
can find them.
Like your northern brethren,
(meliade, daphnaie, hama)
you stand guard
over the flowing naiads
in an endless cycle of life.
Men nurtured you in Egypt
(where you bore their kings),
but here is where your heart lies:
on the banks of the Olifants.

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NaPoWriMo 
Day Twelve

The Prompt:  Write a poem using at least one word/concept/idea from each of two specialty dictionaries: Lempriere’s Classical Dictionary and the Historical Dictionary of Science Fiction.

I chose to use Syce (from the Classical Dictionary, referring to the dryad of the fig tree) and Terra (from the SciFi Dictionary, referring to earth (and Astrum is for the stars).

The Ficus sycomorus (or Sycamore Fig) is one of my favourite trees. This photo was taken on the banks of the Olifants River which is lined with these magnificent arboreal delights.