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