Whispers

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can you sense the whispers

of the turning seasons?

*

can you hear

the words of love murmuring

through bowers of fresh green

blossoming with life?

*

can you see

the Lady of the Flowers

dancing, adorned in daisy chains,

awaiting a shy caress?

*

can you smell

the aromas of aphrodisiac

perfumes, carried on tender breezes,

awakening sensuality?

*

can you feel

the Lord of the Hunt’s

youthful vigour, manifesting in

lengthening days?

*

can you taste

the ambrosia of youthful desire

enriched by dawn’s purity, in flight

on fledgling wings?

*

can you sense the whispers

of the turning seasons?

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I just found this poem in my draft file. It has a nice positive feel to it, and, as that is something that I believe we’re all in need of during these difficult times, I thought I may as well share it. The pictures are some that I’ve taken on my recent walks around the village, down to the meadow, and into the little woodland.

I hope you like it.

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