By Helena Harrington
By the greenhouse it was, when we
Met. Forms through the dust-tinted filter,
Distorted, a meadow-mirror.
In mere minutes
Your hair becomes armfuls
Of sunflower showers, we gather them in
Pools. Cascading star-lilies,
The rich scent paints my lashes.
Blackbirds, drunk, teeter on tree-limbs,
Fully gorged by rich nectar.
The thick-sprouting rushes glint as
We whirl by the hiccupping brook in its
Delight. Who is the fastest?
Who is the tallest? I swear you are
Taller than the last time.
Drained, eyes closed, we slowly melt
Before the protective warmth of
The midday glow. Months stretched on for
Absence makes the heart grow fonder,
It is said.
Tadpole crusted thin on the film;
The sun makes the tarmac-spittle
Will you take
Helena is a student based in London who enjoys writing and reading as much as possible.