The lank winter stretched for days
Along the lanes and on hedge tops
Yet buds appear on new rose stems
Promising leaves for this year now.

If I had a kindling of the loves flame
It would for the ‘Bill Viola’ exhibition,
The mother holding her dead child
Crucified through misunderstanding.

Never let lack of empathy guide you
Or fill a heart weighed down, hurting
For the huntsman finds that cruelty
And wraps it in words of forgiveness.

Love Mary ***