The flickering lamp in your hand
sways as if to swim in peace to me
the lily scenting a warm ponder
ripples from the apple of my eye
and bobs across to bid approach
blooming with a soft absorbing sigh
which enters an essence close to reach

Your touch colludes in a light lashed usher
enticed to where my heart will sing
of finding lithe spirit mute from flesh
I slide into choral waters with longing
for the wonder of a parting life wish

Drumming soft
as butterfly strokes
swishing in the night
so close
and so remote
she could vanish
into poppy fields
at any moment
but will never leave
my sight
fluttering
I swim onward..
I swim
out..

The nightingale gives way
to the ruddy dawn and foam blooms
overhead among the early watercolour
skies.

I hear a blue-*** (or robin) whistling it's tune
through the bulbs which rise bouncing
from the rippling sea of soil,
growing in seamless swathes beneath
the leaves silken pink.

The sun dapples through, reflecting
a rosy hue into the glass
dew drops fast melting
into the thirsty earth, and peeps
over the treetops before
gradually bowing his glinting head.

Old daffodils turn russet
in the golden day
and wrinkle
as the clouds blush.