The Scent of the Blossoms

“I remember days that felt like it was raining daises.”
John Sebastian “She’s a Lady”


The ancient shamans knew much more:

That the year divides into more than four.

There are seasons that the earth defines

That live inside the astral lines.


These fleeting chapters last for hours

And have within them fearsome powers

Some with water, some with drought

But none that we could live without.


And on this day it’s blossom time

They fill the trees like clouds sublime

And magic perfume fills the air

Reminding men of angel’s hair.


Reminding men of pleasure’s pain

And whisp’ring it may come again.

To taste it they will wake the dawn

And rush their way to orchard lawn.

And stretch to clutch the brightened limb

And stop their hearts to take it in.



Copyright 2017


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