scent

Song for my Rose

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

When we first met she was a bud,
growing on the wayside,
but that was long ago
in days so near forgotten.
I didn’t see her gleaming.
My mind was far away
and she grew out of season.
In trembling ice and snow
her heart was hidden.
I was dreaming.

Now she is a full blown rose
and she exudes a scent so strong
so passionate, so haunting,
no man could e’er resist her.

I’d brave every storm that blows
but, growing in this peaceful place,
this flower could bloom forever.
And yet I had to pluck her.

I took her, my eternal rose,
to make my own, possess her.
I will never crush her.
I look at her and I’m inflamed
My soul, in swoon, soars high above.
She is the heart of my desire.
She will always be to me
a rose that glows in glory.
She is my own sweet sighing love,
the bloom that I will treasure.

Springs Song and Dance

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

Here is comes!
The Overture!
Winter ice melts away
Runs in rivulets of water
Puddles reflect a silver sun
Splattered light, all a-dazzle

The snowdrop rings a tiny bell
Listen close
It bows its head
With tender grace
In sweet sonata
Shy performer on life’s stage

The crocus come
Gentle choral
Adding colour
Bringing warmth
The trees burst forth in emerald bud
Birds fly in from warmer climes
All sleeping creatures come awake
All is chatter, all is bustle
Adding to the seasons song

In the garden
Daffodils march in
Blaring trumpets
Yellow chalice
Golden gongs
Gilly-flowers join the dance
Forsythia, Hyacinth,
Frezia, Lilac, Helleborus
Cornucopia of scent

Blue bell carpets in the forest
Where the shade is damp and dense
All the worlds a jubilation
Sung forth from the blackbirds throat
Bringing joy to the morning
Making all our spirits rise
Flying upward with the birds
To the bright cerulean sky

Distraction

/ A. Gouedard / 1 Comment

i write
she sits by the fire
stretched on a rug
smiling
i try to write
how distracting
how beguiling

the bees in their hives
lazily buzz
outside the cottage door
my pen drips honey
sticky, sunny, runny
not a word reaches the page

i stare at the page
keep glancing at her
remembering moonlight
starlight
firelight
last night
and honey
always more honey

Pan is out there
in the garden again
spreading his scent
in the air
the sweet floral notes
that play
with his deep musky darkness
wafts through the window

the silver bells
on her ankles jingle
as she uncrosses her legs
she is dreaming

i watch every movement
her toes to her thighs
they invite me
delight me
excite me
unwrite me

Seeking the Nectar

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

the seed is small

curled up and tight

and now, given water,

it bursts through to light

the most beautiful of flowers

i inhale it’s gentle blossom

and worship its beauty for hours

 

each leaf, each petal, each pattern

the way the colour gradually changes

from the centre to the edge

every aspect as nature arranges

in intricate and elegant design

the unfolding petals curve outward

as it opens and captures the light

or closes again in shadow

a butterfly resting from flight

 

see how the stamen grows upward

from the nectar that stirs at the heart

i want to cup these petals so gently,

not crush them or thrust them apart,

taste the dew from the leaves

seeking the nectar and drinking

i want to dive into the pool,

to the source of the mystical scent

no thought in my head, not thinking

diving, swimming, sinking

breathing,

gasping,

drowning