The troubadour



The troubadour seeks hellibores

As his muse,

He visualises a heart wreath made of

Velvet warm petals,  meek rose pink

Twinkling  flowers and snow whites in fine fettle:

A delicate meander of pattern and colour.

From his medieval stone garret,

He weaves his words of love and valour.

Swathes of summer blooms


Swathes of summer blooms,

so soon their petals will crumple and fade.

For many more sultry days,  bees will  bathe and tumble in pollen,

And many of us will loll about entranced by their hypnotic tune.