Day 8 Scent

8th Oct 2019

Carrying on with the poem a day through October. 

Today's prompt is "scent".


Grass

Early May morning,
Soft new- mown downs spongy underfoot,
Shafts of yellow dancing on sea,
Cotton wool clouds dotted in blue expanse,
Slight breeze, adds salty mist
To grassy reminiscences:
I wake up in Irish cottage,
Snuggled warm in summer’s embrace,
Beside my grandmother.
Delicate, sweet smell of grass
Wafts through open window
From fields with cowpats freshly planted,
Mixes with body odour , of her-
I breathe in the perfume of a new promise,
A familiar narcotic of nurture,
Dreamlike – security, history, joy

April 5th Walk By The Beach

April 5th 2017


Walk By The Beach

Two boys, about eight maybe, kicking up the pebbles,
A dog paddling  in shimmering water, black head stretching
Towards a red ball thrown out to entice.

Gulls squawking madly, fighting over luncheon remains,
Fly away suddenly when a lone teenager gives them the chase
Firing stones at them - not at all nice

And we walk on, hand in hand along  the beach,
On towards Reculver,  the sun warming our cheeks,
Evening threatening to come too soon.

We share stories as we go and talk with more ease,
Sorting the differences that will always be there,
In the sky the sun  joined by the moon.

The rhythm in our steps mirrored by the shushing of waves
Keeping time unconsciously with the gentle ebb and flow
Our bodies one with  nature around us

Moving further out of the town , two figures travelling alone
Scent of sweet lavender  -  an old aunt comes to mind,
Quiet reveals winged insects,  unknown to us.

Strawberries

         Day 6: 6th day, 6th poem              
                 

   Strawberries

Weddings- strawberry cheesecakes,
 Degree ceremonies or new babies-
Strawberries and cream-
Special family times.
Today I sit at a large table
In the sunny conservatory
Surrounded by children
Adult now , parents some,
Animated - they debate together,
While grandchildren - cousins-
In brightly coloured dressing up clothes,
 Are busy, having adventures
In "foreign lands".
On the table strawberries, plump-red -
An aroma of sweet, fruity promise.
And a knife.
 My task : to cut strawberries into four-
 Lengthways-for dipping-In chocolate.
And others, to roughly chop
For Eton Mess - a longtime favourite.
Warm rays caressing my back
Brings to mind  misty memories.