Rosemary

by Martin Elder

Saturday 23rd April 2016 5:55 pm

Rosemary

The smell of rosemary filled the house

It was the aftermath

Of lamb infused and bruised

With garlic and rosemary sprigs

Cut from a garden bush

Reminding me of that which

I love to brush past

The scent that lingers upon my fingers

Something I want to hover over

Time and again like a frenzied

Demented bee

Nectar to my nostrils

To all of my senses

Like the warm spring sun

Where daffodils flourish in great swathes

In parks, roadsides

And not so carefully manicured gardens

Bathing contently

Brazenly showing their yellow hooded yolks

Saying come on then steal yourself

Come near

Whilst bluebells arrayed and swayed

Blatantly the boys from the wood

A carpet not to be trodden or kicked

A welcome pause to remember

When rosemary filled our house

When rosemary filled the air

Comments

Martin Elder

Wed 27th Apr 2016 23:05

Thanks for your comments guys very much appreciated.
I know what you mean about gardening Phil.
Stu and Laura lamb is always a feast in our house. I would have used the word succulent but that would risk sounding like an advert.
I agree with you wolfie about a single idea it is amazing how your imagination can run away with itself
I see your point Cynthia about the two poems. It is always a tricky one. I have written another longer poem recently which has got two parts to it but could just as easily be two poems. I may post it later
Thanks again everybody

Laura Taylor

Tue 26th Apr 2016 15:37

You had me right at

the aftermath
Of lamb infused and bruised
With garlic and rosemary sprigs
Cut from a garden bush

mmmMMMM. My rosemary sadly turned all woody and tree-like last year, but she served me well for years before that.

This is absolutely gorgeous - Stu's bang on, a feast for the senses.

(ps ta for y'note on haiku)

Cynthia Buell Thomas

Mon 25th Apr 2016 15:43

Much enjoyed, Martin. I find two lovely poems here, one about 'rosemary' and one about 'daffodils' also clearly delineated, inserted after 'Like ...' and ended before the last two lines which conclude 'rosemary thoughts'.

I get the connection of 'senses'; but I still think you have two finely wrought poems here, both expressed with fine-toothed sensuality. Which is excellent.

Stu Buck

Sun 24th Apr 2016 12:23

great stuff martin. a veritable feast for the senses.

Various

Sat 23rd Apr 2016 20:44

By the time I got to the end my stomach thought my throat had been cut, and I could clearly smell Rosemary, hear bees buzzing, such is the beautiful imagery.. Thank you.

...and I hate gardening.

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Rosemary

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