February | Hyacinths | May Morning | New Springtime | The Sting | Cherry Blossom | Golden | Poem and Roses | Morning Light 1 | Morning Light 2 | It Rained That Evening | Reverie | Bird Flight | Moving the Horses | An Oak Tree | Regeneration
Down the long path to the river we went,
took a detour, climbed the gentle slope
to the primrose covered hill, great clusters
of their pale yellow, evanescing in the green grass
Farther we went into the sloping field
stumbling over burrows, disturbing rabbits
running for cover and the dogs racing.
The sun was bright and brilliant,
I turned to look at you, to laugh with you
at the glory of the day, the shining of it,
I saw the sun lighting every hair, gold and gleaming
on you’re muscled arms. Last night’s memories
shivered through me with a daunting passion.
How could I know, then, that you would leave me?
So soon, without a word. Only this haunting,
these memories of your golden arms,
whenever bright sunshine colours a primrose.