Poetry

Not once I’ve seen a gleam of light, 
Not once I’ve felt the cooling wind; 
But only one step towards the sight
Wakens my garden with a bitter mint.

Just the sight of the lively flowers
Can take my hours without a pause.
For I have been watching the towers
From a misty hill near my house.

I thought it must be someone near
Who said “no” to my darkest thoughts, 
“She was and still is living, dear, 
With you upon the snowdrops.”

The truth, I cannot answer
If it was whispered from my grounds, 
But the voice seemed familiar
Like it was the quietness of the clouds.