Dr Flowers

A fistful of forgetmenots

in the rain. A year gone,

and still

The heart as true

Early elder, late lilacs

a day with no sun

A hard winter and late spring

The phlox still hiding, abiding,

waiting their proper step in the succession

As measured as a minuet,

the great wheel of the year turns

and sweeps us along

with all our desires and longing

no hurrying

just peace

Soon. . . .

Please. . . .

jjl

6 May 2009