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The Rose

With colour deepest yellow

Petals soft as silk

It reaches up and draws me in

As I was drawn to you.

Gently lifting up the bud

To just below my nose

I smell your sweet delicious scent

That scent I knew so well.

Lifting up the rose again

To stroke across my eyes

I feel the softest touch of you

That touch I knew so well.

Raising up the rose once more

To brush against my lips

I feel the sweetness of your kiss

That kiss I knew so well.

That scent, that touch, that kiss of you

I knew them all so well.

This rose brings them back to me

From forty years ago.


An Early Spring Day

Standing on The Walls

Looking out across the river

To Suffolk on the northern shore.

The sky is clear

And deepest blue

With not a wisp of cloud in sight.

A hint of warmth

Invades the tranquil air

And sets in place a subtle haze.

No wind disturbs

This perfect scene

Or worries leaves on nearby trees.

The water, still

And smooth like glass

Lies flat across the estuary.

The seasons turn

And oh, what joy!

Spring is back with us once more.