seeds collected and squirrelled away last autumn
soon the heated earth will be ready to recieve them
and I will wander the garden awaiting new arrivals
to be delighted by flower, bird, bee and Summer.

Beneath the weight of infinite skies,

her eyes, two wells of drowning sighs.

A tear, like a wounded star, descends,

tracing the map where sorrow bends,

and love, unspoken, forever ends.