Lily of the Valley

I bought you some flowers
Once,  to welcome in the Spring
A March celebration
Fresh love singing
Across continents.

How soon their glory
Faded, stripped and shorn
Of wild imaginings.
Words soon soured
Mingled with grief and sorrow.

Lying between your thighs
The sun failed to rise
On our poisoned lives
Yet the sweetness we shared

Remains clear as a stream
Burnished in the stunted
Rays of the winter sun.

This desire suppressed
By a terse affair
Steeped in joyless pain.

The lily shall rise
Again,  pulsing
With a bright promise
Richer and rarer.

Unmixed with confusion –
A glorious scent
Lasting through the seasons.

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Filed under Love, Nature, Thoughts, Travel

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