A change of air for M'lady Emma

poem

A change of air.

 

 

The perfume carried by the breeze.

A blend of heather moors and pine

 and other scents I can’t define.

A combination sure to please

 the most discerning connoisseur.

 

Though when the wind blows from the west.

A little stronger than a breeze,

 it brings the tang of the salt seas.

Which seems to add an extra zest

 adding something to my pleasure.

 

When bitter winds blow from the east

and make demands I can’t refuse.

My protests are of little use.

They make no difference in the least.

The wind steals the scents I treasure.

 

The winds blow freely as they should

 to bring fresh scents and clear away

The stale perfumes of yesterday.

I would not change them if I could.

The change they bring always ensures.

 

My house always smells fresh and clean.

With no stale odours lingering.

The fresh air that the winds will bring

 are always somewhere in between.

The salt sea air and the high moors.

The wind can blow from either source.

 

Sunday, 11 April 2010

http:// blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.

Reviews

[x]

This is great...I loved it. I loved it because it took an everyday occurrence and turned it into something romantic, something with romantic imagery. For me, the reader, I was given a Wuthering Heights feeling, drama beyond the scene. Thank you so much for being able to bring this moment of escapism to me.

[Tai Chi Italy]

I hope this is for the Emma that I know and love as Poetic piers Ivor? I do love your ability to drive through the fresh air...I am in between the salt sea and the moors also, and the place is damp as any cornish missed her...

Smiling at you

Tai