A MOMENT

The air is ripe with the music of songbirds.
Its hue is honeysuckle and wine.
The sweetness of berries awaken my tongue.

Ah, laughter straddles the beaming sun.
My hands are full. Here are the things that grow
and here are the things that bloom

The gift of the seasons, this moment
will never be again, even if at first glance
the minutes look the same. I take each one

savor its every corner and rhyme
and kiss it, kiss it
as it rises in the mist and dissipates.

~~~~~~~~

For DVERSE POETS’ Open Link Night.

 

20 comments

  1. Imelda, I do love your beautiful poem, a song to all nature gives. Such abundance.
    The pictures are wonderful too.
    My climbing Honey suckle is now also in full bloom and I thank them for their beauty and scent.

    miriam

    • Thanks, Miriam. 🙂

      I chanced upon the honeysuckle during our morning walk. It was growing in the wild and i would have missed it as it was aways from the track we were on but its fragrance was so strong. It was as if it was calling for attention. 🙂

  2. This is so still and suspended in the depths of a luscious lavishly rich moment, every sense is engaged, minute may look the same, but each one a miracle. One of my favs Imelda, truly a living universe, one with our love of it bursting through joyfully. thank you.

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