Untended, wayward tendrils
the honeysuckle rampant
grazes peeling paint and dusts the window’s frame.
Morning’s lark has long since flown,
and beauteous siblings two,
stretch to feel an early sun.
Juno, Hera both akin,
lay draped in silk and pearls,
around fat berries ripe, rose petals’ pink
and birdsong’s trill and on and on,
breathe life’s force through the flaming day.
© Graham Sherwood
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