13 JUNE 1992, Page 32

Sun-birds at Seria

In wicker chairs with whiskeys in their paws The ex-patriates sit. Less savage than it seems, The sun, obedient to its natural laws, Shines on their talk of tax-avoidance schemes.

Out on the lawn hibiscus-branches sway As sun-birds, balanced on the flower-heads, Peck through the petals, find an unnatural way To get at what they want. Their hunger shreds The flimsy scarlet of the flowers' bloom But does not, as the patient insects do, Re-pay with pollination.

I presume Somehow it all works out. The taxes too.

Graeme Wilson