New Beginnings.

The scent of the lilac, rubbing shoulders
with the apple mint and golden thyme
before arrives, the late of summers days.
With the bowed boughs, of the
 blossom trees
honeyed in their fragile husk
in the evenings setting light.

Where stands to nod the kings and queens
of the roses fading fast, long time fatigued
in their
summer youth of stately prime.
Those tall cut flowers
of colour’s loud that grace Grannies
crystal vase.

Swallows feasting belly full
whilst the summers sky still is blue.
And in the wind that stirs the creatures
rise, the poppies red cast away their skirts
with nothing but an ennobled sigh.
Keeping
snuggled close - their seeds of next year’s
birth…