She is seeded, but her sleep is
not neatly bound in beds –
it spreads over rock and rill,
sprinkling sudden blooms
in sharp cut lawns
Her head rises to catch
the unscented breeze –
she will not let it pass
without a perfumed gift
for those she is yet to meet
In every sense
she sweeps the earth
with her wild song
*A gift for a lovely lady and a fine poet
not neatly bound in beds –
it spreads over rock and rill,
sprinkling sudden blooms
in sharp cut lawns
Her head rises to catch
the unscented breeze –
she will not let it pass
without a perfumed gift
for those she is yet to meet
In every sense
she sweeps the earth
with her wild song
*A gift for a lovely lady and a fine poet
It could be worse