Tryst

The sun visits in short spells
early March afternoons.
A cinereal sky weeps;
winter’s gate has opened again
and the earth seems tired of trying.

Apart from a small nut of hope
at the far end of the garden;
a lone wanderer claiming its place.
No grand entrance,
no gentle breeze,
no golden host,
but a quiet, solitary announcement,
an unwavering pale yellow promise of
spring.

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Fragrant Life

Fragrant Life – Villanelle

How sweet the fragrance of my life today
The perfumed past comes drifting clearly by
Much sweeter as the moments fly away

Your skin upon the grass that summer’s day
The scent of love-filled air and you nearby
How sweet the fragrance of my life today

Wild roses and petunia seemed to pray
Raised aromatic psalms towards the sky
Much sweeter as the moments fell away

And honeysuckle vines did gently sway
As you gazed deeply then into my eyes
How sweet the fragrance of my life today

Those heady lilac days were here to stay
We drank our fill, our senses rising high
Much sweeter as the moments seeped away

Now the scent of memories comes to play
Aromas I will cling to till I die
How sweet the fragrance of my life today
More haunting as the years slip faraway.

Wendy L. Macdonald

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