Andrew David Dalby
Andrew David Dalby Poems
The heavy scent of pine, oak, birch and hyssop,
Spins like secret sacred garlands within the breeze;
It twists high and then low, among the boughs of trees
that stand on the damp and musky eternal bridal road,
That leads to the town of Cassis under a celeste sky.
Its here: with a new pondering of delicate deliberation,
I see her deftly pad through twilight s last embrace.
Her feet -penetrating- the rich, dark, deep-damp soil,
That is full of the heavy scent of a rising re-birth;
where even time is held in her shy and rising ...
I love the near silent sound of rain;
Its delicate intricacy overwhelms.
Yet it never tickles, as it trickles,
Forever failing to touch my -near parted- lips,
That rest, warm, plump and heavy;
Close to the cold crystal of the window pane.
I love the radiant light of rain;
I love its fracturing geometry.