When the world comes to life
There are those times just before the world comes awake, when I like to go outside and smell the fresh new day.
I love the fresh smell of autumn with the crackle of the leaves under foot and the steam from my lungs.
I love the smell of the last roses in the garden that refuse to let go of their prize aroma and proudly stand tall.
I love to see the mist rise off the lake and the hues of the brightness of the sun as it creeps through the fog.
I love to listen to the morning folk in the tree tops as they welcome the new day. They are happy to be alive.
All of this is nothing without you there by my side. It is you that brings new life to my world; simply because you are in it.
Bear
Comments
You can view this and over 300 other of my works in fanstory.com under: glen_bear_smith
glen do you grow old roses?
i meant to ask when i first read this lovely poem but in my usual dizzy state quickly forgot
popped in to see if any new today
I have an old lover named rose who is growing older
– glenbearsmith
No, just the gardner grows olf, the roses, wilt, go into the pit asnd creat new life, so in a way they never die
Bear
i truly like this poem and enjoy re reading it
as always you paint word pictures and i feel a little intrusive when i recall they are for your wife…
on this re reading i am reminded of one of my own about the autumn…it begins…
russet leaves rustleing in an autumn breeze…
it ends with the words
when young leaves see new life…
You are so sweet and kind in your reviews. They are not all about my wife, but a dream lover who comes to me in the night at times, she seems too real
Bear