The cyclamen now flower again
Today I dwell alone with them
Their shapely leaves,you did not see
Yet even so,they do please me.
Some are white and some are red
As if on blood the white had fed.
The waxy texture colour takes
So perfectly that my heart breaks.
The little rosemary and sage
Struggle with the winter’s rage.
Yet I think they will survive
For, on this March day, they’re alive.
My heart in pieces and forlorn,
I await the flowers’ charms.
The heat of sun shall give me joy
I am no more your mistress coy.
Like the birds, I’ll find a mate
For my soul to generate.
Grace and love will combat hate
True perception tolerates.
How my heart sings 