Thursday, May 3, 2012

What do you smell?

The stream of fragrance comes not from the falls
That crash and cascade on these sun lit halls.
The rays and beauty of our noon day dance
Comes not from the great sun or his forlorn dance.
On his skyward march he can do little
Except to help us count; time we whittle
Through his brazen sheen of glorious fame:
This is not the smell to which we give name.
Nay, the reason rather is the wine in
June that we serve in this crowded room. Fin,
Finished, done is the Winter run that made
Us our heat, gave us our hope after death;
Yet now it is May, and we look forward,
Or rather we smell in wine Springs reward.

                                       What do you smell? (c) Luke Bennette, May 2012

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