Charles Mackintosh - Spring

Captured in early Spring in the morning,
As tree buds promise blossom
Blue tits call from the fence
And a grown tabby cat goes mad with delight
At the end of winter,
Your smile -

Which tells of a summer sun
On my face
Lying in a meadow
Wild flowers and herbs crushed beneath me
My head on your lap
Your hands in my hair
And the world still for a moment
But for a distant trilling lark
And your smile

Charles Mackintosh

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/spring-318/