Daisy chains

The smell of cut grass
           and recently turned earth
takes me back to my childhood
           back to warm summer days
and bright constellations
           white blossom on the hawthorn
and birds nesting in the hedges
           then all the simplicities of life
were laid before me
           in primary colours
in the wisdom of the moment
           I have travelled far and wide
over the years to escape
           a life lived from memory
and yet here I am home again
           within a mile of where I was born

So the seeds grow
           the trees know their shape
just as a bee can navigate
           the various hues around it
and I remain stubbornly
           stringing daisy chains of words
to hang around my neck
           marking my time

John Lyons