In my misshapen youth
lantana cavorted - shamelessly libidinous -
            over
            the ridge
          down
the un-resounding gully.

Down monsoonal conduits she coursed
ardent in her challenge
to the lolling Parramatta;
           rollicked
risque with run-off
   more voluptuous and volute each year.

In this waste-not land
lantana seductively reigned
an apparent impenetrable torment
                           and 
                           allurement.
Boys braved
the Sleeping Beauty barrier,
bull-nozed wombat convolutions through the flagellating deterrent.

Welcoming a quest that scourged.

Jealous of the motives of rival penitents.

Hand raised
in mock geisha-modesty 
lantana giggled.