Hillsides covered in irises, roses and purple honesty
Amidst spurious poses and dis
Honesty
Wading through a wall of dense humid acacia
Scented air
Passing pungent wild fennel
Delicate dark deep purple roadside posies
Cyclists racing downhill
Hurtling towards Bethlehem
As if
There were no danger
Around the next turning
Darkness disaster or dystopia
An antique pale pink tea rose
Its warm sweet spicy perfume
Makes
Me raise my head
If the centre holds
The lindens will bloom in June
