Poems by Ann D. Stevenson

Homely aromas
of freshly baked bread.
Scents of the garden
infused in my head.

Wiffs of the sea
whilst walking the beach.
Sniffs of freshness
from an apple or peach.

The essence of a baby
breathed in from its skin.
And my love, ah my love,
I love breathing you in.

Oh, for those cloudless days of old
when holidays went on forever,
clear blue skies were lit with gold.

Grass seemed so much greener then,
days fluttered by like butterflies
in the garden playing with friends.

Fields were full of wildflowers
we picked and pressed into a book,
books were read for many hours.

Those trips away beside the sea,
ice cream and donkeys on the beach,
and surfing through the waves with glee.

We built our castles in the sand,
whilst kites reached heights of happiness,
it seemed those days would never end.