Five Vistas

I

My neon veins pulse with the city’s life,
My sequined silk catching electric glimmer.
Kaleidoscope eyes shift hues—
LED lights dancing in the night.
My high-end windows beckon,
But only if your wallet is heavy.
Heady jasmine mingles
With rain’s fragrant aftermath.
Your constant ebb and flow—my heartbeat,
We laugh together,
The buzz of a cosmopolitan crowd.
Who am I?
I am the retail heart at night.
I am Orchard Road.

II

My sharp suit glints in the sunlight,
Sleek surfaces reflecting my ascent from humble beginnings.
The bay, my reflective pool, mirrors the endless sky.
My famous lion-fish stands proudly by the water’s edge.
My three-pronged crown jewel —
commerce, culture, and innovation intertwined —
Rises majestically, an emblem of my progress.
When night falls, I don an elegant outfit of twinkling lights.
My reflective pool transforms into an obsidian mirror.
I paint the sky with vibrant hues of light shows and lasers.
My crown jewel sparkles, a myriad of colors in the dark.
My lotus-like museum glows, a futuristic bloom,
While my music pavilion’s durian-shaped domes glow like lanterns.
Who am I?
I am the famous waterfront.
I am Marina Bay.

III

My palette is ready, standing tall and serene,
Kissed by the sun’s shifting hues.
Glass facades catch the dance of light—
Each structure a stroke of genius on my canvas.
My brushstroke winds through Whadjuk Noongar country,
Curving around the city’s heart, shimmering like liquid silver.
My elegant green muse frames the scene,
Delicately balancing the harmony of urban life and nature.
The trees, silent sentinels on their hills,
Stand watch over the city, protective and wise.
As day fades to dusk, my artwork transforms—
The skyline becomes a constellation of coloured lights.
My liquid brushstroke mirrors this celestial display,
Blurring the lines between reality and reflection.
I invite you to sit with me,
To lose yourself in my mesmerizing tableau.
Who am I?
I am the Perth skyline,
With Kings Park as my muse and the Swan River as my brushstroke.

IV

My tapestry of vines is endless,
Stretching, winding, intertwining—
Meticulously woven threads of green.
Their lush emerald leaves, each cluster of grapes a gem,
A masterpiece forever in progress.
The farms are my workshops.
Golden wheat seas sway under the wind’s gentle breath.
My bounty is plentiful—
Fruits and vegetables ripen under my watchful eye.
Livestock roam, chatter, graze, rest, nurse.
And I, too, nurture them with tender care.
Padam, padam—my heart beats in rhythm with the seasons.
The hills are my sanctuary—
Dappled light filtering through the trees,
Native birds singing in harmonious chorus.
The hills hold a quiet strength,
Our bond forged through care and time.
Who am I?
I am the fertile, nurturing green.
I am the nature of Margaret River.

V

I am the oldest of these vistas.
I am all around, ever changing shapes.
(My mood swings are volatile, but let’s not dwell on that.)
What face shall I wear today?
Seasoned sailor, carefree surfer, wise sage?
You’ll never know which guise I’ll adopt next.
My eyes are as deep as my domain,
Gleaming with hints of hidden treasure.
My calloused hands are the rocky cliffs lining the shore.
My voice is the hum of boats on the move,
Or the songs of humpback whales,
Or the crashing waves against the breakwater.
Sometimes I’m crystal clear, basking in the sun.
Sometimes I’m choppy, stirred by the wind’s breath.
Sometimes I'm calm and inviting, painting stunning sunsets.
But in all my forms, I teem with life—
Vibrant colours swimming and singing
In bustling ecosystems.
Who am I?
I am the vast, ancient blue.
I am the ocean.