©1998 by Spring
You sit on the bank of this quiet country road.
Creeping ever closer to the edge.
How I've protected you through the seasons....
And yet you didn't need my care.
The steel teeth of sickle bars and summer crews..
The harshness of winter's salt and sand.
And yet despite humankinds' hard hand....
You resurrect yourself each June.
Hidden from our eyes until we round the bend and catch your scent.
How many have stopped on their quiet walks....
Held captive by the sweetness that wafts through the air.
Your fragrant flowers - pink clusters sitting among those thorny stems.
The prickly wild rose or the twisted eglantine deemed by the bards of old.
You catch my heart with your yellow centers.
I know I shall not take you in my hand but deeply breath you in.
And once again you shall be a memory until I come around the bend again.
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This Web site © 1997 by Michelle ( Dragoneyes )