“None of us can choose where we shall love...” Susan Kay

The scent of mid-spring flowers
Greet me as I emerge
Onto the gingerbread graced
Porch,
Wrapping around me
Like a fragrant veil
As the light from
A waxing moon
Sparkles upon the dew.
There is only the slightest
Of breezes
To stir the soft air,
Only the quietest of
Denizen rustlings
To tell me I'm not alone.
Stepping to the railing
I gaze through the softness
Of the lunar glow
And smile.
For there you are,
Waiting as I knew you would
Beside the gentle brook
For me to appear.
Centuries stand between us,
Refusing to allow us
A time together,
Except on the Eve
Of Mayday,
When your world
And mine conjoin
To give us
Precious hours
For touching
And loving,
For sharing the freedom
Of belonging
To each another.

c. 2023